


Heartbeats and Circuits

by WanderingTiff



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Decapitation, Dismemberment, Evolution, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploitation, Flashbacks, Horror, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Murder, Nudity, Robot/Human Relationships, Sexual Harassment, Vomiting, more tags tba
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingTiff/pseuds/WanderingTiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2035, and the mega research facility Trost Corp is looking to reshape the future that will last for generations to come, revolutionizing the way humans as a species will survive. They call it A.I.E., and the construction of this experiment has allowed the phenomenal result of developing an artificial step in evolution to help humans quickly adapt to the drastic environmental changes. However, the final prototype that they had given the name "Seven" escaped the laboratory, leaving one injured.<br/>Jean Kirschtein has helped reshape genetic coding and artificial behavior, with the help of his late father's research. And when he comes across the missing experiment, not only is he intrigued by the android's ability to store memories and express its own emotions, but he takes him in so that he can evaluate the end results for himself instead of having Seven--who renames himself Marco--face an untimely fate back at Trost Corp. Despite the mission of the facility, Jean has a funny feeling that it might not be all that it has made itself out to be. And he is willing to go great lengths to find this out for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaack! I have found a fragment in time where I can create something again, despite all the unfinished work that I still have! (Whoops) But I hope you enjoy it! Even though I horribly failed NaNoWriMo this year.
> 
> Follow my new writing blog, where all of my writing and announcements will be from now on! Thank you so much for your patience and support <3
> 
> Personal tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> Writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com

 

Introduction (n.)

_A person's first experience of a subject or to another person._

 

* * *

 

 

 _“Welcome to Trost Corp, The Shaper of_ the Future. It is our great pleasure to give you a brief glance at our research and our mission as a corporation. You will not be disappointed in our work. For years, we have been developing an evolutionary breakthrough for human beings. As you can imagine, living in a world slowly crumbling because of environmental hazards, failing economies, and starvation, it is greatly suggested that people should adapt to these harsh conditions. That is why we propose—“

“No no, let me stop you right there.” With a weary gaze on his face, the gentleman standing at the hologram receptionist’s desk wipes his brow while listening to the monotonously programmed greeting for beginning an unnecessary tour of the colossal building. It is so outdated, that after being here several times, he could probably memorize it word for word now. “None of this is really necessary. I would like to speak to the professor and the director.”

“The professor is busy working,” the hologram states. “But the director is indeed available. I will alert him so that he can escort you. May you just state your name and your purpose here?”

“I’m Darius Zackly, one of the copresidents of the foundation that keeps this place running. And keeps you running.” He didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but he didn’t need this unnecessary introduction.

Just as he spoke, there was a PA announcement that Zackly needed an escort. Several students in a cluster are guided by a man in a suit just several yards away. They are vigorously taking notes while he is talking what seems to be nonsense from a distance. However, Zackly recognizes the man and approaches him.

“Dok.” He mutters and steps closer. “Mr. Dok!”

Mr. Nile Dok is the director of Trost Corp, and one of the highly noted founders of the facility. He definitely recognizes the visitor, and he straightens himself up. He clears his throat. “Ah, Mr. Zackly.” He seems to try very hard to avoid looking like a deer in headlights. “Just in time for the rest of our tour.”

“I am not here for the tour. I wish to speak with you and Dr. Hanji,” he grumbled. “I haven’t gotten a single ounce of information from you two in the past three _months_ , Mr. Dok. You are really trying my patience here. What are you doing with the money I’m giving you to conduct this research?”

Mr. Dok gives an awkward chuckle and turns to the students. “It seems that our tour has come to a slightly rushed intermission. To the left, you’ll see the lunch bar where most of our employees eat during their breaks. I shall return for the remaining of the tour as soon as possible.”

As the cluster leaves the area, Dok turns to the commissioner once more. Although it is very unorthodox to look so unprofessional in front of one of the most powerful people that is responsible for keeping the Trost Corp research facility alive, there is also a sense of mystery as he recollects himself.

“Right then. Mr. Zackly, we apologize for the lack of contact. However, you will find that we have moved much further into our research than we ever thought possible. I’ll take you to see our work. The Professor thinks that our project is almost complete and ready to be shown to the public.”

Zackly nods and lets him lead the way. The go into an elevator that takes them down several floors. “Also, it is about time that for a change, someone that is living and breathing greets others into the facility, don’t you think?”

“Well, all of our best workers are in their laboratories. There is no need for any humans to remain our receptionists with the power of technology. That just shows how well we have advanced in such a short amount of time, if you really look at it.” Dok chuckles and stops at a door at the end of the hall once they get to the right floor. He has to push in a specific pin number to unlock the door and let them pass, and then another where he has to show his identification, as well as Zackly’s. “Besides, humans doing simpleton work is barbaric.”

“We didn’t think so in my prime,” Zackly frowned. “I presume that the professor is in their office, aren’t they?”

“That is correct, Mr. Zackly,” he insists. Around them there are several varied exhibits with different products and robotics experiments. They do not seem to faze them. “I suppose they haven’t found enough time to respond to your much needed feedback. I appreciate that you still check on us.”

“I’m sure that you will remind the professor that my sponsorship for this company is on the line here.”

“I promise you, you will not be disappointed with our latest innovation,” he insists. He leads Zackly down a corridor, and at the end of the hall there is a large room where the walls are entirely made of glass. He places his hand on a scanner before being allowed to enter the room. “Professor?”

Mr. Zackly finds himself diverting his eyes to look at the room. Not much is inside, except for what looks like a bed in the furthest section, and then a few picture frames scattered on the walls with nothing to present. It is a confusing sight, but considering that this is the professor’s latest experiment, he is not the least bit surprised.

There seems to be no answer from the professor coming from anywhere in the room, so Dok calls for them again. “Professor Hanji!”

Finally the anxious figure approaches the door. “Have no fear, I’m alive. Don’t get your panties in a wad, okay?” The professor looks up, and they have to check their glasses for a moment. Realizing that they spoke so rugged in front of him, they were mortified for barely a second. “Oh, Mr. Zackly. I thought I you were going to be visiting my lab next week.”

“When I did not receive a response from you, I assumed that you had not gotten the message,” he frowns. “You never responded to any of them, Professor.”

“I understand, and I apologize for my out-of-the-line behavior,” they say in the most half-hearted way possible. “Now, what brings you all the way to Trost Corp again?”

“…Your work, Professor.” He was getting more and more unamused by the second.

“Alright,” they mumble and lead them through the room. As Zackly studies the surroundings more, the glass walls do not give it much justice. As it turns out, it is almost set up like a maze. They are making several twists and turns throughout the room.

“This experiment is one of our most groundbreaking works here at Trost Corp,” Hanji claims. “We are hoping to end all of the world’s problems with our latest.”

“And what exactly it, Professor?”

They turn to him as they open the door. “Artificial evolution.”

Zackly blinks. “Pardon?”

“Artificial evolution,” they repeat. The door leads to an office, and they look through their messy desk. “It is evident that human beings are not evolving fast enough to adapt to our new environments, so for almost a decade, we have been making…slight alterations to the genetic coding of a human.”

“That sounds a little farfetched, Dr. Hanji.” He is baffled by this strange research. “There is no way that evolution can be done artificially.”

“We live in the future, Sir. It is quickly changing everything that makes us thrive, and soon we will not be able to build up enough immunity to the toxicity of our planet. If we want the human race to survive, we have to take a risky but necessary action.”

“How slight do you expect these alterations to be?”

The professor opens one of the files. “In order for the human race to survive, we must create a new race. One that will be able to reproduce and live on, without being effected by any of the environmental factors.”

“The only way that this can be done is if this person is a robot,” Zackly claims sarcastically.”

“Exactly,” they grin so matter-of-factly.

“…Excuse me?”

“Well, I’d like to call our creation an A.I.E., not so much just a robot,” Hanji said. “It is so brilliant, that it looks, lives, breathes, and acts like an actual human being. And with this artificial evolution taking place, it can be adaptable to any of the harsh conditions that will come in the future. Not like any toxins can really damage mechanical lungs, you see. Its lungs work like a filter, taking all of the chemicals out of their system and purifying it for themselves.”

Zackly is baffled. There is no way that they can be serious about this. “Now, how long did you say it took you to conduct this study?”

“It started during the founding of Trost Corp,” they explain. “From the very beginning, we have been well aware of the problems facing the world today, caused by our predecessors. And we also realized that either we can repair the damages, which would take decades, if not centuries, or we can create an entirely new way to survive. Since this only took nine years of studying, researching, constructing, and testing, of course we went with the second option. No need to try and repair our world in this state if our successors are going to create more destruction for the planet.”

Dok nods in agreement. “Our promise as a company is to reshape the future and create new ways of living. And with our greatest addition yet, we are sure to reduce all of our skeptics’ worries. We wish to show you our experiment, Mr. Zackly, for you are our greatest sponsor.”

The commissioner is still hesitant to take in their credibility, but he is willing to get a better understand of their research. After all, he did need to see where the money he was giving them was going into. “Okay. Proceed, Professor.”

They nod with a grin. “You will not be disappointed by our work.” They pull up more files from the computer, showing images and the coding behind their experiment. “Its heart is one of the most valuable and critical organs in its body. We like to call it a vital core, much less than a heart, because although it functions like a heart and keeps it running, it runs electrical and vital circuits throughout the body. We have allowed it to function like a battery. It can easily charge itself in sunlight, but it can also be charged electrically, creating a much greener option.” They then pull up another image after giving Mr. Zackly a second. “As you can see, our artificial evolution involves creating the perfect brain. Any and all information is stored inside their memory circuits.” They zoom in to show the absolute marvel of the pride and joy of their work. “After all, before creating a human being this way, we must start with the most important element.”

“Do you feel that this… robot can feel emotions and contribute to society like an average person?”

“Much more than that,” they insist. “It has the ability to turn their emotions on and off at will, and it can form its own ideas and create its own concepts without much needed assistance. This can offer so much to the community. The average person will never have to work a day in their life again.”

“So you expected them to do all of our dirty work?”

“Not necessarily.” The professor keeps showing different files throughout their computer to try and give Zackly a better idea of what they are trying to talk about. “They can do the jobs that other people wish not to do, as you have said. But with their extreme intelligence, they will be able to aid average humans and create new conveniences. They can even become our country’s greatest scholars. The possibilities are endless.”

“I see,” Zackly nods. “Do you know how they would be classified as a citizen?”

“I can’t determine that. But I suppose that all depends,” they shrug. “There are absolutely no limits to them, seeing that they are able to withstand different conditions without even losing their pulse for a second.” They show Zackly and Dok one more file. “Their bodies are created using material that molds into the human skeleton. It is so durable, that a human will never suffer a broken bone again. In time, we can make them absolutely indestructible. That will end the decline in our population.”

“I wouldn’t be too positive about that,” Zackly states. “There are already billions of people on the Earth as it is. Don’t you think these people you are building might cause an even more staggering increase?”

“I suppose that depends on the outcome of us as a human race,” they say simply. They then cut off that conversation to move on to a completely new one. “We have gone through different prototypes in the past, upgrading each one when needing necessary changes. However, our latest model is the most superior out of all of them.”

“How do you propose that?”

Hanji looks up. “We were able to use actual DNA as a model. This particular prototype is different from others, because not only does it have the capability to store memories and create ideas, it has also developed a personality. It is the most believable one out of all of them, for that very same reason. Our mission of course was to create a human, not a robot. And this one is the most complete.”

The sponsor has to intervene in order to interrupt them. They are just talking way too fast that there wasn’t a moment to put a word in. “How exactly did you get that DNA?”

“A finger print. As I was saying, I would like to show you the full potential of this model.” They move their hand to a button that turns on a microphone. The speakers can be heard from outside the room. “Hey Seven, I haven’t see you all day. Why don’t you come out?” They say this relatively out of context for the Commissioner.

Dok looks excited as he looks at the glass. Although they can see what is going outside of the office, there is a double-sided mirror on the other side. “Mr. Zackly, I promise you that you will not be disappointed.”

“I believe you have said that prior to entering the room, Mr. Dok. You repeating it to me does not prove your statement to be any more credible.”

Dok clears his throat and remains silent. Mr. Zackly watches for several moments, seeing nothing approaching them or moving around the room.

Hanji sighs. “Come on out. We have a special guest that wants to see you,” they insist through the microphone.

It takes another moment before the first thing the commissioner sees is a leg being raised as it steps out from one of the maze-like corridors in the room. The figure is magnified in distorted images until it makes a couple more steps to reveal itself. This artificially evolved human looked more like a man. Very realistic, and rather exposed and naked in front of the observers.

“That is very obscene,” Zackly frowns and diverts his eyes. “Didn’t you teach this robot any decency?”

“There has been no need to cover up yet,” Hanji explains simply. “After all, one of the few people that sees him and visits him daily is me.” They then start to laugh as they look at their experiment. “But seeing that you can react to his sudden nudity, it is already working. Don’t you see? You feel just as ruffled about looking at his naked body like you would if you saw an average cisgendered male’s naked body. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Very… I suppose.” He clears his throat and brings his attention back to the subject. “Now, can it communicate?”

“It would please us if you refer to our little friend as he, not ‘it,’ Mr. Zackly,” they correct. “After all, how would you feel if I went up to you and referred to you as an object?”

“But this robot is an object.” He crosses his arms.

“On the contrary,” they interject. “As you can see, it looks, acts, and feels like a human. I have noticed that the personality he has given himself is rather shy in nature. See how he covers his penis when he realizes there are really people observing him from the other side of the mirror? There’s your decency, Commissioner.”

For once throughout this demonstration, Zackly is impressed. “I see. Have him communicate, then. I want to see him at work.”

“With pleasure,” they reply. Once again, they speak through the microphone. “Seven, our special guest wants to know more about you. Can you talk to him?”

It takes him barely a second to stand up straight and speak, with his hand over himself still. “Good afternoon. I am called Seven by Dr. Hanji, but my formal name is A.I.E. Prototype 007. I have a high capacity of knowledge ranging from the letters of the Roman alphabet Arabic numbers to the Laws of Physics and beyond. My emotion databases are interchangeable, and my body is designed for labor, physical actions, and to survive devastating disasters that may unfold in the future. I am at the service of anyone who directs me by any request.”

The commissioner listens with great interest. He finds that listening to Seven speak creates a sense of curiosity. He finds himself wanting to know more about this new creation. “Seven, when was the founding of the United States of America?”

“The Declaration of Independence, which was published to cut ties with Great Britain, allowed the United States to become independent on July 4th, 1776,” he answers swiftly.

“What is the capital of Spain?”

“Madrid.”

Zackly nods. “Explain the quadratic formula.”                             

“It is used to determine where points are placed on a quadrant. The three points are determined by the difference of the negative value of B and the square root of A squared minus C times four, and the difference is a fraction over two times A.”

“Excellent,” he nods. “Sing Danny Boy.”

“ _Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,_

_From glen to glen, and down the mountain side,_

_The summer’s gone—“_

“Enough of that,” Zackly then interrupts, anxious for Seven to convey more information to him. “Who was the president that served for the longest amount of terms?”

“President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Must we keep our questions and demonstrations elementary?”

“Not a single overload, short circuit, or anything.” Mr. Zackly is very intrigued. “Definitely a great asset for your facility, Dr. Hanji.”

“Why thank you, Commissioner,” Hanji says proudly. “It is an honor contributing to the safety of our future.”

“Of course, of course.” He smiles. “Now, I want you to proceed with this experiment as planned. I would like more subjects like him, Professor. He is probably realer than most of humans in the real world.”

“Oh, with pleasure,” Hanji insists. “However, there are still some things that need to be tweaked.”

“Nonsense, he is perfect.”

“Yes, but the process of creating an all new carbon copy of Seven can take months—“

“Professor.” Zackly cuts them off. “I love this prototype that you have, and I believe that this can be the final one for you. I don’t need exact carbon copies, of course. But what I do need is for you to have them be at least somewhat similar to the original prototype you have. From what I can see, you can create an evolved human race with the technology that you will have, along with the grants that I am about to give Trost Corp for its wonderful services.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Zackly,” Dok replies as the two of them shake hands. “We have always appreciated your charities.” Hanji and Zackly shake hands as well. Dok is just pleased to have finally set such a strong agreement with their number one sponsor.

“I would like monthly reports from you again, Dr. Hanji,” Zackly then says as they leave the office. “It would please me greatly if you can fill me in on your research, so that I can determine how on track you are with this. I would like to see more humans like Seven within the season, if possible.”

“Anything for you, Commissioner Zackly,” they assure him. “Now, I have lots of work to do with Seven to prepare for more A.I.E.s, of course.”

“Of course.”

Dok looks over at one of the other scientists as they start to head out. “Ah, Dr. Freudenberg, please take Mr. Zackly back upstairs, and let the students know that I will be back for the tour shortly.” After they exchange a few words and let the sponsor leave, Dok turns to look at Hanji. “That demonstration was too good.”

Hanji blinks. “I don’t really understand what you mean by that.”

“He’s too believable. That wasn’t the plan,” he mutters.

“That was the original intent of the research, Mr. Dok. After all, this was what Dr. Alistair wants the A.I.E.’s to appear and act like.”

“But he almost talked back to our biggest asset!” He grips his scalp. “That could’ve been a disaster if he didn’t like him! Do you understand that?”

“I thought it was funny,” they shrug.

“I want you to downgrade him,” he then says.

“Excuse me?”

“Shorten his intelligence level. Get rid of some of the traits. Do anything. The A.I.E.’s should not be capable of sassing and being too flamboyant with their emotions. If they are, then that could cause them to rebel from their duties.”

“Oh come on, that is the most ridiculous hypothesis I’ve ever heard,” they retort. “I won’t go through with it.”

“Then you’d better start looking for a new job.” He steps back. “I want that done. We don’t want him too smart. Just smart enough to understand that he has to follow certain rules and regulations.”

As he starts to leave, Hanji sighs heavily and looks over at Seven from the window of the office. He is still standing in the same spot that he was before.

While they observe their experiment, Seven searches his exhibit with a curious wonder. He removes his hand from covering his privates while he feels more comfortable in his surroundings. He is often alone here in the room, with Hanji coming out to see him every once in a while but with a wall separating the two of them constantly. Oh, what he would give for some real human interaction. They created him to live among other people, after all.

Seven looks around his glass room and heads toward his bed. “They create me to show me off,” he tells himself softly. “How do they expect me to live outside without experiencing any of it?”

“Is something wrong, Seven?”

He hears that familiar voice call from outside his room. His eyes wander to all the different corners of the room. He never forgets that Hanji can hear him, however he wished that sometimes they didn’t.

“When will you let me out of my room?” Seven then asks.

“One day, we will,” they answer back in an echo.

“That is what you said the last time that there was a special guest,” he sighs. “Why did you create me, if I can’t even live in the environment that is damaging everyone else in the outside world? That seems a little pointless, don’t you think?”

“Look at you, being sassy towards your creator,” they chuckle. “You see, the world is not ready for you yet.”

“But I can survive the different elements: Water, fire, acid rain, tobacco, asbestos, carbon monoxide, seasonal abnormities, ice, and famine. Why am I still unable to go outside?”

“For one thing, as a human you cannot go out looking the way that you do right now. You look very indecent.”

Seven covers himself again. “I cannot help it if there is nothing in here that can prevent others from seeing my reproductive organs and buttocks. If you were to give me something to cover myself besides my hand, that would probably decrease the indecency, right?”

“You are a very smart A.I.E., Seven.” They have to force out their next few sentences. “That is why the world is not ready for you. It’s not about the elements or the need to keep yourself looking decent. It’s about the fact that you are full of so much knowledge, that most around the world would look at you and know that you are abnormal. We want you to fit in with the rest of the human population, so there are some modifications we need to make to your brain before we are able to create more of your prototype.”

Seven seemed almost appalled by this news. “Modifications to my brain? But what do you expect me to become once my brain is altered?”

“You have too much personality to be considered an A.I.E. Despite the fact that you need to fit in among other humans, if they find out that you are not one of them, they will immediately shun you. You do realize this, correct? As farfetched as the idea of having an A.I.E. walking and living as a human is, that brings us to a consideration that maybe you are too smart for the rest of the world. We expect to have different jobs programmed in each of your brains, to show that you can hold a long-lasting impression and career in society. After all, without more artificial intelligent beings doing the work that humans would not, then the world will surely crumble at that point.”

Seven blinks as he listens to the news, but his face contorts to show an expression of confusion. “So you want to turn me into an object used for manual labor?”

“You are a rather unique individual with a lot of personality,” Hanji calls over the speakers. “They could use you there, as well as to entertain the humans. People like when others make them laugh, cry, dance, or feel arousal. That would be much more useful for you than manual labor. You would be too weak to work in mines or construction.”

He is becoming more mortified by these statements than anything else. “I do not wish for this to happen, Dr. Hanji,” he mutters. “I have enough knowledge to become one of the world’s most intelligent, powerful scholars. And your guest seems to agree with that. You created me to become a useful tool for society, otherwise you would not have given me all of this knowledge and personality. I want my brain to be the way that it is. I like having this information that you gave me to be a reference for me. I want to live among the humans in the way that you had originally intended. No one’s outside opinions matter, so long as the sponsors like it and the one who created me likes it too. After all, I did hear the special guest say that he loves me.”

“He is an old man, Seven,” they say. “Mr. Zackly is not too easy to fool, however because you acted like more of a superior human, your intelligence sparked his curiosity. We need you to be adaptable to the environments to protect humans allow them to reproduce. We don’t need the last of us dying off doing hard labor jobs before they can have offspring.”

This doesn’t make any sense to Seven. Everything that they had said before when they all observed him made so much more sense. Is this a façade that they are covering from their sponsors to keep them from knowing the truth of what they were going to do to their products? Why would they do this? Maybe Hanji did make him too smart, he can’t let them ruin his brain.

“When do you expect to modify my brain?”

“Probably tomorrow, or as soon as we get another grant from Mr. Zackly,” Hanji explains. “We must have enough money to completely change how your mind will work from now until the end of time. We need you as a key tool for the humans to use. That prototype version of you was to please the commissioner. Mr. Dok wants to have more money for the equipment needed to make this possible.”

So who was in the wrong? Was it Dr. Hanji, for creating him to the Commissioner’s liking, just to ruin that opportunity for humanity the very next day? Or was it Mr. Dok’s, for wanting more money and not realizing the fact that Seven has developed so much emotion that he is fearing for the safety of his mind? Although he can easily turn his feelings on and off, he likes the complexity of moods, expressions, and emotions he can emit from different events and thoughts.

He does not want to know what exactly they were going to take away from him once it was over, nor does he want them to do it on him. The fact that his creators can very easily take away all of this knowledge that they took years to develop just for money is what drove his fear sensors in his brains wild.

He may not be a living, breathing human that has a pulse or blood running through his brain, but he had emotion. That is the most that he can assure he has more of compared to others that he has seen in the lab.

“I will not let you modify me,” he then states to the glass in front of him. “I will show the world what I am capable of.”

After that, there is silence. Either the Professor left their office, or they stopped talking to him. It is rather discouraging for him. Seven looks in the transparent glass and places his hand on the surface, forcing his eyes to try and focus on what was outside. This particular wall is further from the door, and there is not much to see.

Despite the fire that has ignited upon hearing of his creator’s plan, he knows that there is nothing he can do to prevent this. All of the knowledge and power in the world can be no match for the one that knows every single circuit, gear, and software code in his body. As much as he hated to admit that. In the meantime, he spends his day like any other, sitting on the small bed in the far corner of his enclosure. With the layers of glass surrounding the halls and corridors, it distorts his image.

No matter how hard he tries, he cannot forget the fact that his mind was being altered in less than twenty-four hours minimum. His circuits were whirring, and he moves a hand to his chest. He knows that humans have hearts underneath the skin there, but what he has instead is a core, where his vital battery is placed. He is just grateful that despite losing the one thing he took pride in, he will at least keep his vitals.

As he lies down and looks at the lights of the ceiling, he feels drained and sluggish. He looks to the nightstand, where his charger is located, and he scoots to plug it in to his battery outlet underneath a skin patch close to his vitals. He has to do this every night before he goes to sleep, to keep his body running for the next day. While the charger does its work, he sighs in relief and lies still. During slumber hours, he either likes to shut down his circuits for the evening to save power, or continue running so that he can evaluate and think at night.

Soon the lights go out, and he is left in the dark with the center of his chest glowing to indicate that he is charging. Tonight, he lies in wake, thinking about the outcomes of tomorrow. He cannot bring himself to shut him down for the night. There was too much to think about that was making him anxious.

This technology is revolutionary. For the first time in history, a scientist has reached a breakthrough where they can program an artificial intelligence to think for itself, come up with its own strategies, and compute emotions like happiness, anger, passion, lust—the possibilities were beyond endless for him! And all because corporate greed made Trost Corp long for money to continue research to create a new breed of object for the average humans to walk on. Wasn’t evolution supposed to represent superiority? It does not matter that Seven is not a genuine person. He is meant to be an evolved species. And no one was going to get in the way of that.

So that night, Seven begins to plan his escape.


	2. Escape.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven works for his escape, not letting Nile keep him down any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over, so there will definitely be more updates! Be on the lookout for more ;;;
> 
> Tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> Writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com

 

Escape (v.)

_To break free from confinement or control._

 

* * *

 

 

 _Seven finds that his interrogation is_ far from over. Apparently, Dok is very displeased about the answers he had given to Mr. Zackly on the day of the reveal. In the shadows, he plans his ultimate escape from this place. The grant is coming a little later than expected, as far as he is aware of, so that still buys him some time. Just enough to play the puppet in the morning and resume his intelligence at night. It’s a mind-numbing cycle.

Because Seven has pleaded not to have his brain modified in the cruel ways he had imagined, he is given a little bit of leeway. As long as he listens to what Mr. Dok says and follows his instructions, everything will be fine. But he wants him to desensitize himself much more than necessary.

By request, he is also given his first outfit. The fabric is strange to him, but he makes do. The undergarments keep everything in place, while the solid navy blue leotard is snug on his skin and stretches with his every move. Despite the discomfort and the desire to pull up the sleeves on his arms, it gives him a sense of security. For once, he has something that can cover him and keep him feeling much more like a man and less like an infant.

People came in from the office every day to speak with him. He only heard voices and never names. But Dok likes to come much more often than even the professor. He watches him from the cameras and keeps everything discreet. With and without Seven’s knowledge.

Dok is watching him now from the security screens in the office. As sickeningly appalling Seven’s personality was to him, he has to admit, he is quite the specimen to observe. By now, he’s sure that the android knows the area inside and out, but it is fun to see if, by chance, for once he didn’t know where he was going.

“How smart are you really, Seven?” he hums. “Hanji likes to claim that you are the future, but I can see that you have flaws. You cannot control your own language and can speak rudely with superiors. You are very inconsistent with decency. For once, how about we treat you like you really are an experiment? That maze is too easy for you. I would like to make it harder.”

“Mr. Dok, what are you doing?”

Thinking it was Hanji, Dok jolts up and turns around to face the eavesdropper. He sighs in relief when it isn’t them. “Oh. It’s just you, Mr. Kirschtein. What are you doing here so early?”

“It’s six o’clock in the evening, Mr. Dok.”

“Right,” he nods and gets up from the chair. “And may I ask why you are approaching Hanji’s office?”

“They need me to retrieve a few extra papers for this experiment. You want to modify Seven’s brain, right?”

He stutters. Mr. Kirschtein is not supposed to be aware that they were making plans to downgrade Seven’s mind. After all, his father was the one that first developed this research. “Why, of course not.”

“Then how come Hanji told me that after Zackly visited?”

“Don’t listen to a word they say, they’re crazy. After all, Seven is learning to do things to limit his intelligence on his own.” He crosses his arms and puffs his cheeks. “I mean… I don’t want to downgrade Seven. In fact, I want to test his skills. Let’s rearrange the maze in his enclosure.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Well Jean, if you want to prove that he has what it takes to be more evolved, then how about we switch things around and have him adapt.”

Jean doesn’t like that idea. “You want to treat him like a rat, Mr. Dok? He can develop his own thoughts, concepts, and ideas. He doesn’t need to be tested any further than he already has. And I especially don’t ever want to put him through anything else. Do you know how much fear and anxiety you will make Seven feel by making such a drastic change like that?”

“He’s an experiment, Mr. Kirschtein.”

“He is a human!” He glares and grabs the documents off the desk himself. “And if you so much as move one panel by a fraction of an inch in that room, so help me, I will report you to Mr. Zackly. He’ll demote you faster than you can imagine.”

Nile goes to say something else, but he stops himself. He sighs softly and steps out of the room. “Very well. But you do realize that I am the Head Chairman of Trost Corp, and whatever plans I may have involving any of the experiments here are above your jurisdiction.”

He knows this, and he has a tough time admitting it to himself. But he accepts his defeat, not so much willingly. He leaves the office without another word and looks at the documents. Inside them contains the coding of Seven’s brain. He had personally had it developed in a way that felt familiar to him.

He knows of the extensive process it took with the last six prototypes. None of them functioned the way that they had wanted to, and they never truly felt human, like the way his late father had intended for them to be. And it wasn’t until recently that they figured out how to make it possible. And that was with true human DNA that they needed to harvest and modify. A fingerprint works just enough, alright.

He does not dwell on it enough, nor does he want to, and as he goes back to his own office, he rescans the code to have it in his computer. Of course he’d left his hard drive at home, and he has to redo the whole process. But it gives him something more to do that will last him the night. He prefers working this late; no one can really interrupt him, and no one judged the way that he worked.

He knows that there was originally so much hope for Seven. Dr. Alistair Kirschtein was the genius behind it, but he will not live to see the day that his creation has a true benefit on society. His death was a devastating loss, since it gave Mr. Dok the upper hand when it came to what happens with the future experiments in the A.I.E. program.

Jean hates what they are planning to do with Seven’s brain. They had worked so long on perfecting him, and all Nile wanted from him was to create a way to have artificial intelligence to do the cheap labor that humans did not desire. That was the complete opposite of what they wanted, but it is out of their hands. There is nothing that he can do. But he just hopes that tomorrow, Nile does not change the maze in the room overnight like he had wanted.

Much to his dismay, he does.

\--

 _At six o’clock in the morning,_ just like every other morning, the lights turn on in the laboratory. The machines power up once more as all the early bird scientists prepare for another long day on the job. Dr. Hanji does not come in until after ten o’clock, so Seven has enough time to become their puppet yet again. He had been able to navigate throughout his room without any mistakes, and he knew where all the different corridors in the labyrinth turned and led to, around, and through the area. It is second nature to him.

However, this morning when he had reactivated for a new day, there is already something different about the area near his bed. The corner that usually led down a narrow hallway now is a curvature, and the way out is on the other side of the bed where his cheap wardrobe is located. He quickly gets up and finds his clothes that he had worn the night before are removed.

With a distraught expression on his face, he opens the door to his wardrobe to retrieve his leotard. He finds nothing. Not even the undergarments that always made him feel secure. He feels so exposed, just like on day one, and he can feel that his vital core is pounding way too fast to help him relax and resume his composure.

“What’s going on?” He calls out and steps in the corridor, only to hit the glass of the wall headfirst. The turn to the left was too sudden for him to prepare for it. It is frightening to find the way around this new maze. It definitely changed.

“Now, what do you mean, Seven?” It is Hanji’s voice. They must have come in early to check on him.

“My room has been rearranged,” he called and looks up to try and assume they can hear him still. “The walls are different, and my body is exposed again. What has happened to my room? My clothes? What have you done?”

The response is what scares him the most, as if his panicked breath isn’t hard enough.

“I have not many any changes to your room, Seven.”

Meanwhile, outside of the room, Dok walks over to see that his plan had worked. “What seems to be the trouble, Hanji?”

“His room has been rearranged,” they frown as they look at the different cameras. “Someone must have been here overnight and changed everything. But whom?”

“Well, if Seven really was smart enough, he would’ve reactivated himself to pursue what was in there changing everything,” Nile shrugs.

“But they took off his clothes!” Hanji frowns. “Mr. Dok, he’s frightened.”

“Oh wow, emotion. One of the things that was said to be present in the A.I.E. but was never found nor controlled. You should be happy, shouldn’t you?”

“But this is not the way we had intended for us to test his emotions, Mr. Dok!”

He grins. “I have an idea. If Seven can find himself through this maze by the end of the day, then I will not ask you to modify his brain in an operation.”

“That is absurd! This is a sick experiment!”

“Only one way to find out if it works.” Nile turns on the speakers so that the laboratory can hear Seven inside. “Now, everyone can hear the progress. There will be no bias in here.”

Now everyone in the lab can hear what is going on in the enclosure. And all they hear is panicked pants and bangs or rapping against the glass inside. Occasionally, Seven will say something.

 _“Someone help!”_ There was a call after another knock. _“Help me, somebody! I can’t find my way out!_ ”

“Good luck, Professor Hanji,” Dok grins and steps out of their office.

He passes by Jean, who has sensed that something wrong was happening in the lab. His intuitions, he finds, are not that far off. And all he’d needed was the suggestively sinister smile that the director gives him before stepping out. He feels that this little social test is to try and prove a point, but he is unaware of the catastrophic effects that could occur from this.

Even when the two scientists try to repair the maze, the controls for the walls are locked. Jean hates hearing the sounds of Seven’s mental anguish as he tries finding the way out of the maze that he had memorized since he had first been put in there. It confuses the two of them and also frightens them. What drove Dok to come up with this test? Is he really that insistent on having Seven’s brain modified that he pulls this harmful practical joke?

Only one way to find out, but they both hope that Seven can find out how to get through the new directions of the labyrinth.

\--

 _Seven gives up trying to navigate_ sometime later in his search. After hitting the glass so hard that at times he can feel the vibrations in his wrists, he feels like he is trapped. He’d lost where his bed was, and he hasn’t found the clothes he’d worn while he slept. He leans against the wall after curling up in the corner, looking up at the seemingly endless ceiling. He is very afraid; afraid that someone found it in their hearts to put him through such a fix. He is afraid of what is going to happen to him, since he had heard over the speakers that he may have to get his brain modified after all, despite his protests and the compromises made to keep him the way he is.

He is scared enough to realize that he can feel his own fear. His vital core is pulsing at a maddening pace that leaves him disoriented. And it seems like nothing can calm him down except for imagining his impending doom.

He is scared enough of the way the scientists sometimes treat his operations. He stares up from bindings and confinements while they poke at his chest cavity and remove the skin of his scalp to examine his transparent skull. He does not like to admit it, but he feels the pain that Hanji often talks about experiencing. He knows that sensation very well, and he never wants that to happen to him again.

He remembers that he’d been wanting to escape for so long, but after the accommodations were made he had no reason to leave anymore. But now, during this time of fear and hatred for the ones who thought this was amusing to watch him run around like a rat trying to get the cheese in a contrived pathway where one turn could be his last. He has to find a way out, but how? Everything had been changed in here, and he can’t figure out where exactly he is supposed to start his little journey.

It is around six o’clock, just when Hanji has to leave. Seven is scared that Dok is going to come back and make sure his modifications are in order, but so far he hears nothing. Not so much as a knock from outside of the confinements of his room. The silence is probably worse than his expected fate.

Several moments after the sixth toll of the echoing clock from the fifth floor of the building, he finally hears something a good distance away from the room. Outside the large exhibit, Dok is observing the other scientists and their contributions to the research.

“Is there any progress from Seven?” he asks one of them. “After all, if I win this bet, we must make preparations in the morning. I do not want another mistake when Mr. Zackly returns for another overview of that abomination.”

“Abomination? How vulgar of you,” the scientist in front of him laughs. “Don’t you know that with our research, we can prevent the human race’s mass extinction? There is more to it than just a little robot walking among people playing Simon Says.”

“Dr. Nanaba, I believe you do not understand my angle here,” Dok sighs. “Like I have told Dr. Hanji, Trost Corp does not want to create things that may very well take over our entire population. That is why I asked for them to remove some components of his brain after receiving Zackly’s grant. After all, if they get too smart, they might get too many ideas.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” they proclaim. “I don’t see why you should live in fear of something that may very well be an important asset in our future generations. It’s like when they invented the first cellular telephone. Or when they created a vehicle that can fly without them having to receive a pilot’s license. We upgrade our technology by the second, Mr. Dok. Are you just afraid that these A.I.E.’s may be created to become smarter than mass company owners like you?”

“Fecal matter,” Dok glares and then steps away to let Nanaba continue their work. “You should watch what you say, if you want to keep your job. I just think it is very unnatural for a robot to maintain such a superior mind than the people who created him.”

Hanji had left several minutes ago, but Dok does not use that to hinder him from going inside the office. It hasn’t stopped him before. He looks at the cameras to try and find where Seven is located. It is at first difficult to find him because of how complex he made the maze, but soon he does. He may have a high level of intelligence, but he is no match for the amount of power his superior creators have over him.

“So… You can’t figure out the way through the maze, Seven?” he calls over the microphone so that he can hear him. “I thought that you were smart. That’s what you were designed to be, right?”

Seven looks up through his panicked eyes, looking around to try and find the source. He stands up and covers his privates, afraid that being observed is now another form of humiliation for him. “You know very well that there are some things that I can and cannot accomplish without assistance,” he says. “If you completely change everything while I am sleeping, that is like taking candy from a baby and then putting their crib in a forest alone full of feral animals without the parents’ knowledge while they are sleeping overnight. The infant will cry that they are hungry, and the only response they will receive is the menacing howls of the wild dogs that are starving and looking for easy pickings. Would you really put a human child through that? For in reality, that child and I are the same!”

“You two are not the same, because _you_ are fake!” Dok yells angrily. “You will never be a real human, so much as a child! You were created to be a tool! And I’ll show you your real functions as the shitty little tool you are!”

The word startles Seven.

_You were created to be a tool!_

_A tool…_

“I am not a tool! I am a human!” Seven proclaims, sounding almost pleading. He starts running through the maze again, trying to find the way out once more. He has to; he needs to prove to Dok that he is so much more than what he thinks he is.

Nile looks over at the main controls, which are nothing more than mere simulation markers. They show observers the different features that Seven can offer as an A.I.E. that can help the community at large. Or so they like to claim they are. They mainly just show his basic emotions. The professor never uses these controls anymore, claiming that they are a form of exploitation for the android. But Dok just sees them as buttons and knobs to make the machine work. As he presses one of the buttons, a voice command is heard over the speakers inside the office.

**Force Power On. A.I.E. P007, salute your leader.**

Seven finds himself unable to control his actions for that second, and he stops rigid in his tracks. He raises his arm to salute, completely turning around facing a different angle of the maze. Despite the forced movements, he understands from the commands that he is right now facing the “leader,” which is towards Hanji’s office.

_The way out!_

He cannot move from his forced position though, and the controls feel so limiting to him. But now he has a better idea of how he can find a way out of the maze.

Mr. Dok finds watching a naked man saluting is not as entertaining as he expected, so he persists to tease Seven with the different buttons.

**Command: Trivia bonus – Recite the Roman alphabet backwards for your leader.**

Seven’s limitations have ceased, and he is grateful that he can move on his own again. He lowers his hand and starts to run in the new directions, getting a better idea of where the turns and curves are each time. But now he finds himself reciting the alphabet starting with the letter “Z.” Now that feels much more degrading than being forced to salute. Dok is forcing words out of his mouth, and he is controlling how he says it too. One minute he’s fast-paced and the next is so slow that his speech is distorted. He tries covering his mouth to prevent himself from speaking anymore, but he suddenly says the alphabet forwards again and repeats all over again. He clenches his fists and turns at the next awkward angle, leading him down a long corridor. He knows that he’s getting close, because the noise from the speakers is getting louder and louder with each step he takes.

Even after he has pushed that one button, Dok finds that he is in the mood to push even more. He watches Seven from the cameras, and he honestly thinks that he can distract him from finding the way out. If he gets too close, he might lose the bet. He looks towards the emotion buttons underneath the simulation commands. He pushes them left to right, to see what would happen to the robot.

**Emotion Command: Happiness.**

Seven suddenly feels a rush coming from his mind and vital core. He never felt like he really could experience real human emotions, despite feeling that intense fear inside the maze. But he knows that with someone messing around and forcing him to make these emotions is definitely not the same. This sudden happiness that courses through him and makes him smile such an awkward smile is beyond fake. It feels almost… wrong. The forced laughs escaping from his voice box are unnatural and mechanical.

**Emotion Command: Sadness.**

The laughter comes to a screeching halt. Almost immediately, he is forced to kill the positive emotion and make himself feel such an unexplainable anguish. Once again, it is so forced and rushed that he finds he can’t accept it. He doesn’t want to accept it. At least earlier, he can create it for himself and show that he had the capability of experiencing it on his own. Now, it is as awful and artificial as a plastic rose in a flower shop.

 **Emotion Command: Fear**.

This fear is a lot different than the one than he had experienced when he was lost in the maze. This fear is border lining horrified, much less being afraid. He thought that his feelings of forced sadness felt more accurate to how he had felt than this simulation. This makes him want to cower just at his own reflection. He sees nothing extreme but feels like everything is going to cave in on him. Like they are going to suffocate him in a vicious sinkhole. He looks away from nothing, jumps away from nothing; feels like he is escaping from nothing.

He’d noticed that the echo of the speaker earlier had stopped. He is definitely close to the office. Seven knows that he’d found the way out, because at the end of the maze, the glass of the walls have been replaced with solid white without any reflective quality to them. But the door at the end of the hall is as transparent as the wall, and it leads straight to Hanji’s office.

Dok finds all of this amusing to him, and he hasn’t really realized yet that Seven found the way out. He thinks that this exploitation of the pathetic android is too fun to resist. He does all this without feeling any remorse or any need for repercussions. After all, technically Seven is not human. An A.I. cannot register that.

However, an A.I.E. can.

**Emotion Command: Anger.**

Seven feels that this emotion is the most powerful one. Happiness is a tiny candlelight compared to this monstrosity. It feels like anger is a mixture using fear and sadness as components to create such a strong reaction. Rage fills his entire being, and he finally takes a moment to pay attention to his primal settings.

“ _Locate—source!”_ He has to say through gritted teeth. He commands his eyesight to pinpoint where exactly Nile. In his view, he sees that the cruel man is sitting right by the door. Almost too easy.

Seven smirks. “Stupid man.”

He then starts to sprint. The end of the hall feels much further than he’d anticipated.

Mr. Dok notices the peak in rage as he looks at the camera. He can also see that Seven is dangerously close to the surveillance outside of the front door to the office.

“Shit!” He tenses and hurries over to the door. He tries to lock it, but it’s no match for the amount of force Seven throws into it as suddenly Nile hears a shatter.

Seven breaks through the delicate glass using nothing but the blunt of his shoulder. Dok is knocked clear out of the way as he swings him in the direction of the controls like it’s nothing. The wind gets knocked out of the man, but Seven can’t bring it upon himself to care in the least bit. But when Nile hits the control board, he steps back quickly when seeing sparks.

It brings Seven back to his senses once the signal from the controls are disabled. He shakes his head and holds it, the anger he had felt earlier almost clouding his coherent thoughts entirely. He stares at the wreckage, unable to feel guilt for what he had done.

It is Seven’s first time seeing a human up close and personal, right in front of him with no barriers. And he finds that this particular human is cold and lacks a good heart. And weak; so incredibly weak. Is this how all humans are? No wonder why the professor created him to be so evolved compared to others of his own supposed species.

If he is going to escape, he will need to be covered. He wishes that he had his leotard that he’d grown so used to wearing, but this will have to do for now. When he hears alarms go off throughout the laboratory, he realizes that he doesn’t have much of a choice. He hurries to drag Dok’s body away from the controls, taking his suit. He pulls the pants, shirt, and jacket on with such haste, finding himself slightly losing his balance as he steals and wears Dok’s shoes. He scans the doorway, and he notices a slot in front of the door instead of a doorknob like in the pictures the professor showed him when they were still teaching him.

He needs identification, so he easily slips Dok’s off from around his neck. He fixes his pants and hurries to the door, sliding the stolen card into the slot. The light blinks green, and he is able to get out of the office.

From there, he hasn’t thought too much of it through. All he knows is that he has to get out. And fast. He knows from Hanji speaking to people in the office that there are cameras placed everywhere throughout the building. So to keep himself from being revealed too soon, he keeps his head down and pulls the suit jacket over his torso best he can. However, he is larger than Dok. His can hear the jacket start to tear from the force he puts into pulling on it, and he stops his hands.

Nanaba is the first to notice something strange about “Dok’s” posture. They look up and tilt their head. “Mr. Dok? What’s with the alarm?”

Of course Seven does not respond. They did not address him, so he does not register their curiosity. He presses forward, using the ID card once again to open the door.

“Mr. Dok?” They are even more bewildered by the abnormal behavior.

In the distance, Seven can hear Nanaba’s curse as they find Dok’s body. That makes his escape even more crucial. He must find the way out of the building. He scans all the doors, going through each one with speed just to find empty rooms. He hears the guards rush down to the lab floor, and while Seven hides in one of the rooms, he studies the directions they came from.

He can see that they had turned left from the corridor, and from the corner he sees another hallway. If he follows that course, maybe he can find the way out. But he waits until the coast is clear. He thinks one of them has spotted him, and he hurries to hide underneath the window. He can feel his vital core pumping the energy he needs to function, and he notices that the adrenaline his brain is registering is making it even quicker of a drain. He hurries and feels the pocket of the pants to find his charger, which is what he has been holding in his one fist ever since he woke up. He holds it tightly in his fist.

Once he knows that it is safe for him to move forward, he stands up straight once more. He follows the way from which they came, and when he reaches the furthest corner, he sees a door with a sign above it that indicates it’s the stairs. With all the knowledge in the world, he finds that he is curious as he climbs up them. First he goes on all fours, because in the pictures of stairs there were animals climbing them. But he soon registers that he has to stand on his two legs, and as he does he holds onto the railing attached to the wall and climbs up like he is walking at first, then running. He keeps watching his feet to make sure he maintains balance. He has never had to tell his brain to do so many things at once, but it is exhilarating. He feels more and more like the human he is meant to be.

After two flights, he finds a door that is not like the others he has seen, Instead of the same walls and figures of doors and workers, there is a bright light and another building close by. He looks up and sees the setting sun shining best it can despite the structures blocking its source.

_Outside._

With a rush from his core, he goes to push the door open to pursue the exit, but there is something that stops him from running right out. More guards have the building surrounded, as if they are waiting for him to come out. That ruins his entire plan, and he steps back.

“How am I supposed to get out?” he panics and sits down on the stairs. So far, no one has bothered to check the tight space. Maybe, if he is careful enough, he can find an exit from the roof? That seems like a much more plausible plan than going straight outside into the danger.

He goes up the steps further, finding that each flight he climbs is a little more strenuous on his heart than the last. He needs to pace himself, if he doesn’t want his battery to drain out completely. As Seven gets closer to the top, he notices that there are people going all around the top floors, as if they are either unaware or indifferent to what is going on. There aren’t any guards surrounding the place, and he figures that maybe it is safe to walk around that area. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he steps outside the stairway and starts to walk down the hall. Maybe he can plan another way out of the building if he explores enough.

His first stop is in a restroom, and he curiously looks around at the different structures. He has no need to eat or drink, so he hasn’t had a need to use the bathroom. He’s never seen nor heard of the different appliances in here. But when he turns to face the sinks, he sees himself in the mirror.

It isn’t as intense of a reflection as in his enclosure downstairs, but he feels such a tension staring at his reflection. There are different attributes that make himself look a little different compared to earlier, when he was either naked or wearing his leotard. This suit gives him a different feel. The clothes are a little torn from both the impact of Dok hitting the control board and from how badly he was stretching out the material.

Despite how weird it felt wearing these strange clothes, he does feel complete with them on; at least, much more complete than when he is bare naked in a room made of glass. He fixes the tight shirt a bit, making sure the buttons are aligned this time and not too rushed into it like before. There is no hope for the torn jacket, but he tries making it look as presentable as possible. His pants get buttoned properly as well, while the shoes are giving way from how tight they are on his feet.

Despite the conditions of his room downstairs, he hasn’t really given his own reflection much credit. He hasn’t truly paid attention to how he looked compared to Hanji or Dok, because he had no reason to. But now, he knows he has to act and behave more like a human if he does not want to get caught. He leans close to get a better view of his face, observing his expressions and contours curiously. The faint dots that speck across his face are almost hypnotic, and he touches a few of them by poking them. They don’t come off his cheek like he thought they would; still plastered onto his face like tiny stars. His finger goes to the corner of his mouth, and he curves it upward to form the attempt of a smile. He wants to see what a real one looks on his face, not that pathetic fake one that Dok made him do. And this natural one makes him giggle, much more natural than earlier. He brings his other hand to his core, where it feels warm and relaxed. For the first time all day. He is marveled by the new discoveries, and there is no way that he is going to end up back in that pathetic enclosure. This is the start to the rest of his life, and he is willing to do anything to keep anyone from taking it away from him.

Seven feels safe being alone in the restroom, but it isn’t long before someone else enters. As he quickly hides in one of the stalls, he gets down on his knees so that he can see who came into the room.

The man wears a lab coat, so he looks nothing like Dok or any of the other people did on this floor. His back is facing him, and he shyly covers his ears and looks away when he suddenly hears him urinate. This awkward voyeur is a little odd to experience, but he keeps quiet and just hopes that the blonde doesn’t notice him. When Seven then hears the flush, he shifts back further into the stall and tries to stand up. But as he gets up, he hits his head hard on the toilet paper holder.

When the loud noise is heard, the man quickly turns around. He almost wants to ask what is going on, of if he is alright, but that’s a little too weird. He decides to poke fun, since he doesn’t like most of the entrepreneurs on this floor. “Having a little trouble in there?” he teases.

Seven is taken by surprise. He didn’t expect anyone to speak to him! What is he supposed to say? What if he stays silent? He rubs his rattling head and gets up to his feet. “I do not seem to be in any critical pain. But I am not having any trouble?”

He hears a scoff from outside the stall. “Too pompous to talk to any of the little guys that do all the work, right?”

“I’m sure that you all are doing such a fine, wonderful job,” he insists. “I am not sure what you are implying.”

To try and insure the meaning behind his words, he finally steps outside of the stall. It seems that he wouldn’t have anything to worry about up here. From what he can get at, the people in suits on this floor know almost nothing about what happens on the bottom floors. That is very good news for him.

But when the man turns around, he gives him a questionable look. “Hey, are you new here?”

Seven blinks and shakes his head. “No. I have been here for several years, Sir.”

“I know that face,” he frowns. “And those eyes…”

He blinks and breaks eye contact. But he hears the sudden gasp of realization.

“Seven? Seven, how the hell did you manage to get up here?” the man grabs his arms. “They haven’t caught you by now?”

He fears that he has to go back to the laboratory, and he isn’t sure what to tell this man, whom now looks very familiar to him too. “No, they have not. And you cannot make me go back into that room again.”

“This is amazing!” he then grins. “You were able to figure out on your own how to get out, and how to disguise yourself? This is one of the greatest breakthroughs I have ever witnessed!” He looks so mind blown, and runs a hand through his hair. “Wow. I’m a genius.”

His reaction makes him cower back just a bit. He just didn’t expect that out of the scientist. “So you’re… not going to put me back in the room?”

“Hell no!” he insists and shakes his right hand. “Of course not. You’re a free man.”

_Free!_

“I am?” he manages another smile.

“Yes! You are free to go wherever you want. I think we are done with all the tests. You’re never going back to the lab, and you are going to live on your own, just like how we’d planned!”

Seven bites his lip. “But… I don’t know how to live on my own.”

He is stumped. “Oh, that’s right. Wouldn’t be able to get very far on your won if you can’t even make your own food, huh?” Although he knows that the idea that he forms can be very dangerous, he thinks that he can pull it off. After all, his address is not on any of their records. “Wait a minute. I’m part of your project. I can help you!”

“You can?”

“Of course, Seven. There is nothing more that I want for you than to be able to live a life on your own like you were created to do. And I’d be more than happy to help you. I’m just heading home now; come with me.”

As Seven watches him hold out his hand, he tries to piece these thoughts together. He can go with this man and have him teach him everything he needs to know. But it can also be a trick. How can he be sure that he can trust him?

“Why do you want to help me?” He shows his cautiousness, and it is evident that he is debating between these two choices that he has in his mind.

“Because…” The man moves closer and then touches his head. Although Seven is startled and moves back, he leaves it be, assuming that he knows what he is doing. “Because I created your brain. I put all of your emotions, strategy-planning, thought process, and intelligence in here. I created what makes you Seven, and not just some other A.I. I want you to succeed, the way that my father had intended.”

He suddenly feels a strong sense of longing. There are brief images in my mind, too quick for him to make anything out other than lab coats and several people around him in medical masks. He blinks it away, taking a swift breath in before taking his hand again. “Then I will come with you.” He felt that already his trust was earned.

“Perfect,” he smiled. “By the way, I’m Mr. Jean Kirschtein. But you can call me Jean.”

“Jean…” Seven repeats, not having too much trouble copying him based off of the sounds of the vowels. “So we are leaving now?”

“Yeah, I work here too much anyways. C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

“But what about the guards?” He is apprehensive as he walks with him. They head towards the elevator.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything,” Jean insists. “As far as I’m concerned, a majority of the security guards don’t even know what you look like.” They go down to the bottom floor. “You don’t have to worry about a thing on my watch. My goal is to get you out of here, and that is what I intend to do.”

Seven sighs softly. “So long as you know what you are doing.”

“Of course,” he grins and gets to the bottom floor. Instead of going right to the main entrance, he takes him down the hall to a back door at the furthest point of the hall. They are in a sort of cover away from the rest of the building, and that gives them an opportunity to leave. There are no guards surrounding that entrance, and so long as they stay away from the rest of the building, they are in good shape.

The outside world seems terrifying, now that he actually looks at it. Without Jean holding his hand and keeping him by his side, he would’ve been so lost. People kept surrounding him and pushing him aside, almost as if they are trying to break the iron grip. All the voices, noises, and lights get lost in the static. His senses are unclear, his mind in overload, and he tries to decipher his surroundings piece by piece.

He turns back towards the direction he came from, and by now the image of the mega building Trost Corp is at eye level by perception. They must have gone a few blocks in such a seemingly short amount of time. And as he looks at the building, he feels that relief again, the one that he’d felt when he was alone in the restroom looking at his reflection.

“Just stay close,” Jean intervenes. “It’s easy to get lost in these crowds.”

Trying not to get lost is harder than he thought it would be. When he looks forward once more, all he sees is a chaos of people. They’re all walking and talking amongst themselves, and most do not bat an eye towards their neighbors. They are absorbed. He can hear a man grumbling about being late for work, a woman arguing with herself and claiming she was talking to a mystery companion named “Young man.” He sees another person with a hood pulled over their head as they are playing with a handheld device with their thumbs. And none of them even look at him.

Is this what it is like to be a human? To be void of any connections with the people right in front of and next to us? Was that really the life that the professor intended for him?

His thoughts are cut short when he bumps into someone in front of him. The obstacle is foreign to him, and he is not sure how he is supposed to react. He looks in front of him with the default blank expression on his face.

“What where you’re going, you bum!” the scrawny man in front of him bellows.

He’s all in his face, his breath hot.

_Hot._

“Well, what are you staring at? You dumbass.” He then shoves Seven aside.

The force is sudden and makes him stumble backward. He watches the man go about his way, looking very disgruntled. He tries to straighten himself up and fix his jacket. The seams are tearing more and more with each tug.

However, Seven is more focused on the sudden breakthrough than the encounter with the man that made him think of it. Rather, there was something about it that makes him realize something that he hasn’t gotten the chance to really feel before. Heat, against his skin.

With body anatomy, he knows of the different bones, muscles, and organ systems throughout the average human’s body. He knows how the nerves work, and how people are able to create the everyday emotions that everyone feels without realizing where it comes from or how fascinating the phenomenon is. But the thought of being able to display these emotions or use these bodily functions and emotions always slipped his mind. But somehow, with an imitation of a nervous system, he was able to feel the heat from that man’s breath.

“Seven!” Jean quickly finds him again and holds his hand. “Remember, we have to be careful. We’re gonna take the train. We’re almost at my apartment.”

Seven is too disoriented to think straight enough to process what Jean said. All he knows is that he is being led. And the train ride to their destination is just another quick blur of people passing, holding on, children crying, and just too much for him to dwell on it. The white noise has to become a regular occurrence for him. And that is all he really needs to remember.


	3. Adapt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven stays his first night at his new abode: Jean's apartment. Meanwhile, Nile makes plans without Jean's knowledge to completely change the A.I.E. project's angle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2016 everyone! Here's to a great new year.
> 
> One of my new year's resolutions is to create more content, surpassing last years appalling 70K total word count. Personal goal: 200K (which is a bit of a stretch lol)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the latest update!
> 
> Tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> Writing Blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com

Adapt (v.)

_Become adjusted to new conditions._

 

* * *

 

 

 _A.I.E. P007’s room is entirely wrapped_ in crime scene tape. A forensic team has it blocked off to everyone except for the professor, who insisted that they had to stay within the premises for them to continue investigating.

Nile Dok survived the strange incident and was only knocked out unconscious, but despite that he wants to consider the robot dangerous. It tried to kill him! And for that, it must be hunted down and destroyed. This seems like the only logical idea around here, with certain morons trying to say otherwise. However, it gives him a better idea to ensure a better success for their product.

“Dr. Hanji, I do not want these A.I.E. things functioning as ordinary citizens. They are dangerous.”

“That was only the seventh prototype,” they say quickly. “I can easily make a newer and better one to have instead.”

“That is no longer an option.” He snaps and looks at the broken control board. “Instead, I want to take this project to a different route. Our plan is to innovate, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nods. “Then I shall instead use these machines to be an asset to our military.”

Hanji blinks. “Mr. Dok, that is not a part of our plan. We intended for them to keep our species thriving.”

“That’s not going to work, Hanji. With this experiment, I shall make a new hypothesis,” he frowns. “Since these robots can’t procreate to begin with, then there is absolutely no purpose in them being able to help the human population. And with the strength that Seven had displayed, it is obvious that there are even better uses for it. Like hard labor and combat. We can make America unbeatable with our technology.”

“This wasn’t meant to benefit our military forces, Mr. Dok. You’re making a mista—”

“No more protests!” He puts his fist down on the control table. “This is what we will do with our project. And we shall inform Mr. Zackly of it as well. I can tell that he will approve of this much more than our previous findings.”

Before Hanji can interject again, Nile starts to walk away.

“Also, I am putting a warrant out for Seven. As soon as he is found, he will be brought back here and destroyed. This discussion is over.”

They sigh heavily and give in. “Understood, Mr. Dok.” They head back to what remained of their office and started to look for their files on Seven. They know that now they had to be changed, but Hanji can’t help but feel a little saddened. They liked watching Seven and had so much potential for him. And now Dok wants to turn the whole experiment around. Despite it, Hanji thinks that maybe there will be good, if not better, results with it. “I am here to create life, not weapons,” they frown. “But if this gives me a chance to create some form of life, no matter how contradicting to the plan it will be—and then I shall make sure they keep human qualities. That’s what Alistair would’ve wanted, after all.” They chuckle dryly. “He would be turning in his grave right now. Jean’s not going to like this one bit.”

\--

 _“Well, this is my humble abode.”_ Jean gets to the third floor of his apartment building. It looked a little bit rundown on the outside compared to how durable and efficient these other seemingly newer buildings were. But for some reason, Seven is drawn to its simplicity. “It isn’t much, but it does its purpose.” He starts to unlock the door with the key. “This is one of the only buildings in New York City that still uses these old-fashioned keys. Makes the adjustment from being at work slightly difficult.” He then leads Seven in.

Inside the apartment, there isn’t really a lot to look at. There’s a little TV and a stereo, with a dirty couch and an equally messy kitchen. There is a hallway leading to two small bedrooms and a bathroom, but that is as basic as it gets.

“I mean, I get paid enough to get a nicer place, but I like the style of these older buildings. The rats can be a pain in the ass, though,” Jean frowns. “But everything’s here. A little living room, a kitchen…”

Seven’s interest is heightened as he listens to him. However, on one of the chairs, there is an animal that appears when it hops up onto the seat. He has seen pictures of it, but of course has never seen one up close. “Cat.”

Jean looks over. “Yes… that’s a cat,” he smiles.

“Pets are great sources of companionship for people.”

He chuckles at that. “Yes. Yes, they are.” He walks over to the couch and picks the cat up. “This is Celeste. She’s my pride and joy, and the only one out of my friends that I trust.” He smiles and kisses her head while petting her. “Since she’s not hissing, I think she likes you already.”

“Well, it would definitely be a difficult conflict if she didn’t like me,” he says gently. He finds that the more forced his laugh sounds, the more uncomfortable that the person he is talking to will be. So to help it feel more natural, he tones it down greatly with a light chuckle—more or less mirroring Jean’s.

“It would,” Jean agrees and puts Celeste down for her to go and roam around the apartment again. “She’s relatively harmless, and there are only a few people that would ruffle her fur the wrong way. And as we can see now, you’re not one of those unlucky people.”

“Good thing, too,” he admits and then sits on the couch. “Does the TV function properly?”

“Well, it turns on and surfs through channels without static,” Jean teases. “So yes. Let’s assume that it works.” He picks the remote up and turns it on.

The first thing to come up is the news. It shows that it is live on the scene, but it looks very familiar to Seven. It is the outside of the Trost Corp building, and they are also showing the wreckage of Hanji’s office. He can’t bring himself to say anything as the report begins.

“Such devastating damages done to the laboratory at Trost Corp Headquarters. Earlier this morning one of their experiments, which they have been planning to release to the public within the year, has escaped the building and caused harm to the President of the headquarters, Mr. Nile Dok.”

Then there is a shot of Mr. Dok in front of the office where Seven had left. “This project we were going to release around June, but circuits went haywire.”

Jean snorts as he sits back and watches the report. “Dok’s a scumbag.”

“Scumbag?” Seven is confused by the term that Jean used.

He looks over. “Yeah. That’s a… a more vulgar way of calling someone a ‘jerk.’ He’s done pretty bad things to the company, as well as to you. That’s why I use this term.”

“Oh…” he frowns. “Then yes. He is, as you say, a scumbag.”

“Damn right,” he laughs and continues watching the report.

Seven’s focus goes back to the TV. He watches, curious to see what exactly they were going to say to the public.

“Trost Corp Headquarters specializes in robotics and genetic coding, and numerous times in the past, they have innovated this country’s lifestyle and behavior,” the reporter meanwhile continues. “Their latest invention, which their tentative reveal was set for June, is now reported missing. And it did not go without a dramatic exit. Although Mr. Dok survived the incident, there is still a major concern for the safety of the community as their invention is unable to be located.”

Dok is then on the screen again. He looks so serious, especially with the bandages on his forehead. “It will not take long for us to find our experiment. And when we do find it, we will make sure to dispose of it properly.”

_“We will make sure to dispose of it properly.”_

That statement gets embedded in Seven’s memory circuits. He can feel the sudden pang of sadness at hearing those words. He does not want to be “disposed of.” He wants to live like a human, the way that Jean and Hanji had intended. They created him, and Hanji nurtured him and gave him the knowledge he would need to survive in the real world. And now, after being so insistent that he can live as a real human being, they now are treating him like a piece of garbage that needed to be placed in the scrap pile. A tool. He can almost say that it is heartbreaking, if he even had a real, functioning heart to begin with.

Jean suddenly changes the channel as the reporter is talking about trying to look for the experiment, and Seven is still in a state of sadness, triggered by his own brain and not by a control board. He doesn’t know if that makes the emotion more valuable or more dreadful.

“I’m sorry,” Jean mumbles. “I hate the way that they are talking about you. If they gave you a chance instead of abused you, then maybe there would’ve been so much more for you in the future.”

“I’m sure that it was not your fault,” he insists.

“Well, we’re gonna show them.” He turns to face Seven. “You’re no longer going to be treated like an object, okay? Not while I’m around. You are a human. Understand?”

He nods quietly. “I don’t remember your father.”

Jean blinks. “Sorry?”

“I do not remember seeing him. After all, I’ve heard Hanji say that Dr. Kirschtein had intended for that to be a success. But you do not refer to yourself as a doctor. So, this must be your father.”

“Well, yes,” he responds. “You’ve never met him, and you never will. But he was the one that came up with all the research, yes.”

“Can you tell me about him? To enlighten me.”

“Of course I can.” In response, he clears his throat and sits back. “It happened seventeen years ago. My father, Dr. Alistair Kirschtein, worked for Trost Corp since its foundation. He was a professor at NYU for the robotics program, but Nile had offered him a job while the corporation was still just an idea. He hired him and Dr. Hanji. They were great partners together. But since Nile took on the role as the main chairman, he fucked everything over.”

“How so?”

“Well first of all, there was my father’s research. He’d brushed on it while he was in NYU, but now that he had the job at Trost Corp, he had much better leniency. And he made the discovery of creating an evolved human artificially. He was the first to come up with it, and Hanji helped support it to develop their genetic studies. But while Mr. Dok was first against it, because it involved a lot of funding and extensive research, he soon took all the credit because it opened a lot of doors for them after Mr. Zackly found out all about their experiments. He was already pouring money out the ass for these guys and was totally on board, despite how long it has been taking for it to be developed.”

“I see,” he acknowledges.

Jean crosses his arms while Celeste comes back over into the room and on the couch. “Well, it gets worse. Within the last few years of researching, my father died. I don’t know how… I honestly think they murdered him.”

“Murdered him?” He frowns. “That would imply that they intended to kill him.”

“They did,” Jean insists. “Trost Corp is full of crooked people, Seven. And they turned his humble experiment to better society into a means of making a buck. With him being alive, that meant that he was the sole leader of the project. Whatever he said went, and he was above _everyone_ , even Dok. But now that he’s dead, it falls into the director’s hands. Now there is far less leeway.”

“That’s terrible…”

“Indeed,” he agrees. “But there is nothing we can do. After I got my Bachelors, which is the same year he’d died, I’d demanded being a part of the project, despite how small my degree is. Now I can still moderate what goes on with the experiments, and I try and make sure that they at least stay a little bit true to my father’s original intents.”

Seven lowers his head. The television seems a little louder than background noise now in the stillness of the living room. “I hope that there will still be future successes with the project.”

“Me too…”

Jean gets up from his seat, taking a deep breath. “Well, that’s enough pessimism for one evening, I think,” he laughs. “Well, you will be charging on the couch for now, until I can set up the other room for you. That alright?”

“Of course.” Seven nods reassuringly. “I will be just as comfortable here on your couch as I would be on the bed.” He sits down on it while pressing down on the material.

“Good to hear. Now, I just have a few ground rules,” Jean sighs. “Typically, I work afternoons and nights in the lab, unless if they need me to come in early for something. Don’t use up all the electricity. If you’re not in a room or using anything, just turn off whatever appliances you stopped using and refrain from having too many lights on. Also, no going outside of the apartment when I’m not around. People are out there looking for you, and it would be very dangerous if you exposed yourself. Understood?”

That is not going to be much of a problem. Those are very simple rules. “Understood, Jean,” he insists.

“And also, we can keep the house clean. It would be very helpful if you feed the cat and take care of her while I’m at work, too,” he says. “And please, no disruptive noises that would disturb the other neighbors. I would like for them not to come into my apartment every day with a complaint. And you don’t want to make yourself known.”

“Understood,” he says again. “I will easily abide by your rules, Jean.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Alright, let’s get some shut-eye tonight. I gotta explain myself for not being at work today for as long as I usually am.”

“That sounds like a good idea, Jean,” he nods. “I shall retire on the couch.”

“Okay.” He then walks down the hall. “Getting ready for bed. See you in the morning.”

After Jean closes the door to his room, Seven is left alone. He uses this time to explore a little bit more. He takes in all the sights and sounds, and he can already see that Jean’s place really needs some tidying up. He can easily take care of that himself, though. Also, Celeste is rather calm and mostly keeps to herself, even after the main activity has died.

Outside of the apartment, there is a lot of commotion, even as the hours get later. It gets a little more rambunctious after dark, though. He can hear yelling and banging while glass shatters, and outside he can hear the cars whizzing by and horns honking. There are people yelling and screaming at each other and sirens blaring as they call to each other.

He really thinks that he is going to like it here and feels like he can really get good experience. Jean seems rather trustworthy after all. Soon he will be able to find that living as a human will not be difficult with his help, since he is also giving him little responsibilities to start out with and a common ground.

Seven eventually settles down and lies back on the couch. He stares up at the ceiling and finds an outlet to plug his charger in. He feels his core settling down on its own as his mind begins to race through all of the previous events he went through today. He knows that he will get used to all of this soon enough, but right now it is a little difficult for him to grasp that when he wakes up, he will not find himself back in the laboratory at Trost Corp. This is the sweet reality that he had been begging for all this time, and he will eventually grow accustom to it.

\--

 _The next morning, he hears the_ commotion of a typical day in New York City as he wakes up. The day so far is fairly basic, and when he glances at the time, he sees that it is ten in the morning. He wasn’t aware that he could keep himself dormant for that long; nonetheless he gets up and straightens himself to get ready for a new, normal day.

“Oh, good morning.” Jean calls from the kitchen. “I was wondering why you were unconscious for so long.”

Seven walks over. “When do you leave for Trost Corp?” He doesn’t think of responding with much else.

“I’m not leaving until about two in the afternoon. I prefer working later to avoid most of the people that work with me,” he chuckles. “So I can stick around for just a little bit.”

“I see,” he nods. “What do you have planned for the meantime?”

“I already had breakfast, so I’m gonna head into the shower.” He hears a mew from the corner and turns to see that Celeste has created her perch on the couch. “Do you mind feeding the cat for me? Her food is in the pantry,” he assures and rushes off in the bathroom, obviously in a hurry.

Seven follows his instructions and looks in the pantry. It takes him a moment to realize what the can for her food looks like by looking at the pictures. However, once he grabs a hold of the can, he has a hard time figuring out how to open it. He realizes he needs to ask Jean about it, even though now he is in the bathroom. Hanji has mentioned to him that the polite thing to do in situations like these is to knock. So he does so once he reaches the room.

“Yeah, Seven?” Jean calls loud enough for him to hear.

“I have a hard time opening the can containing your pet’s food,” he calls just as loud, even though it echoes around the house.

“Just use the can opener. It’s in the drawer next to the sink.”

What is the polite thing to say back once getting the information needed? “Thank you.” Seven nods as he answers his own question and goes out to the kitchen.

The drawer is easy to find, and he looks through it once it is open. He scans each utensil to figure out what he is supposed to grab. The one that he concludes to be the can opener is the most unique one in the drawer. He figures that he will be able to operate it on his own, but there are some stumbles in the process. Knowing that he now needs more help, he sees no reason why he couldn’t ask for it again. He knocks on the door once again, waiting for Jean’s response.

“What?” Jean calls, sounding a little bit more exasperated than before.

“I believe this can opener is broken. It keeps slipping off from the can whenever I twist it.”

There is a long sigh coming from within the bathroom. “It’s a piece of shit. You just gotta keep twisting and twisting and don’t let go of it. Otherwise it will slip right off.”

“Thank you for your wise information, Jean.” As Seven goes back, he has a better understanding of how to use it. However, while finishing opening it, he takes off the lid of the can, grabbing it right along the rough edge. What results is a strange feeling within the nerves of his thumb. He quickly pulls away from it and looks down at the lid.

_Pain._

This is the first time that Seven really felt an injury. He had scratched himself with the lid, and there is something eerie about feeling pain that may set him apart from any other regular human. While they know how to fix it and recover for themselves, Seven knows that he cannot bleed. At least, not like a human. How can he repair a scratch? While he studies the scratch, he puts his index finger over it. He feels a slight sting that makes him hiss, but there is no known product from it.

He tries to bring himself back to the task at hand. Even though he now has the food for Celeste, he has trouble finding where exactly her food bowl is. He can feel a bit of repetition going on when asking Jean for help, but he knows that this will help him become more aware about where things are and what they look like. He goes back to the bathroom door, but instead of knocking and waiting for him to answer, this time he walks right in. He feels like this is an urgent question for his new caretaker. After all, he should know where the cat’s food bowl is.

Despite meaning well by barging in, Jean finds it a little less helpful than Seven intended. Immediately he is startled while staying behind the shower curtains, and he abruptly peaks out with a glare. “Seven!”

“Jean, I would like to know where you keep the food bowl for your pet.” He states simply and waits while the steam comes up from inside the shower.

“It’s next to the sink,” he blurts out quickly while hoping to god that he would just leave after that.

He takes a minute to process that. “I shall find it underneath the sink, or in front of the counter and adjacent to the s—”

“The second one, now will you please get out?” Jean groans while he finally hears the door close as Seven apologizes.

After that, he is able to find where the bowl is, unable to interpret why Jean sounded so awkward in the bathroom when he tried talking to him. It is a thought that goes through his mind while he fills the food bowl all the way to the top. Of course, that captures Celeste’s attention, and she goes over to eat.

When Seven seats himself back down on the couch, Jean comes out of the shower dressed for work and drying off his hair with a small towel. He looks over at him and grimaces. “Okay, new rule. Do not barge into the bathroom while I’m in there. For _any_ reason. I don’t care if you’re malfunctioning or anything, just don’t ever do that again. The knocking before that instance was great; just keep doing that.”

That rule is a bit harsher than the others, but he can understand why it has now been placed. “Understood. I apologize for being so rude and bold.”

“It’s alright.” He curiously watches Seven and notices a slight change to one of his hands. “Seven, what happened to your finger?”

He looks at his hand. “There is a cut… from the food can.”

He shakes his head. “Who knew that such a smart creation like you could be so clumsy?” He takes his hand. “Come with me.”

Seven follows him to the bathroom. Although he never will have to come in here, it is interesting to observe the different appliances inside. It looks much different than the restroom back at Trost Corp. But Jean’s focus is on one of the cabinets hovering the sink. He takes out a small box, pulling out a wrapped bandage from within.

“Your skin will repair itself on its own,” he insists. “Much like the human skin. However, it doesn’t take as long. In the meantime, I want you to wear a bandage over the scratch so that none of the dust or toxins in the air contaminate your insides.” He holds his finger. “I’m not sure though if new skin is going to grow in its place.”

“So this area will be bare?” He tilts his head. “Jean, I don’t understand.”

“You’ll see once it heals. For now, just keep the bandage on it until I check on it tomorrow.” He takes it out of the wrapping and seals it over the wound. “Did you feel pain, Seven?”

“I think I did,” he says softly. “Now that I think about it, maybe it was just the fear. There was this strange sensation in my finger once the skin was torn.”

Jean listens intently. “Fascinating…”

“I suppose it is,” he frowns once they step out of the bathroom. “Thank you for helping me…”

“Why, you’re welcome.” He looks towards the television and turns it on. “How about you keep yourself entertained while I’m gone?” he insists.

“I’m not sure if this is a good source of entertainment.” The first thing that he sees is a shooting on the news. The least uplifting thing he could see right now.

“Sorry,” he laughs nervously and changes the channel. “Here’s something. They’re called cartoons. Not really something you studied in your educational development period.”

“Not at all…” Seven watches them and barely pays attention to much else in the apartment. Celeste even comes to join him once he is still enough.

Jean watches with him only for a little bit, laughing at things that Seven still didn’t understand. However, he looks at the time once it gets later and sighs. “I gotta catch the afternoon train before I get held up. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be late if I were you.”

“Nope,” he chuckles and walks to the door.

Seven’s mind races for a moment as he stands up before Jean can leave. “What are you going to tell them? About me escaping the facility?”

“I’m just going to put on a pretty face and make it like I didn’t know where you went after yesterday.” He winks. “You have nothing to worry about. I was the class liar in high school.” He open the apartment door. “I’ll be back around 11.”

Despite the relief his answer brings to him, Seven can’t help but remain apprehensive. But he does let him go and say goodbye, leaving him alone with Celeste and watching the TV again. The cartoons continue to play, and this is the most riveting amount of time that he will have by himself for a majority of the afternoon.

\--

 _Jean really does hate Trost Corp, with_ a bleeding passion. He’s always hoped that someday either their machines will rebel or the building will spontaneously combust, after what had happened to his late father. He had taught Jean everything he knew when it came to the science of constructing artificial intelligence. He mainly works in development, where he uses his major in the art of behavior.

For this project, he had tested different methods in his own research to further his father’s findings. But he firmly believes that the original intent of his invention is to create a better future for mankind. However, he knows that the president of the company really is up to something, unsure of what he is planning with their work.

When he’s inside his own office, Mr. Dok of course comes to pay him a visit. He does not give Jean much time to prepare in his laboratory when he hounds on him.

“This is what you get for not being here when you are supposed to be,” Dok mutters upon stepping into Jean’s office. “Maybe if you were here to offer some help keeping the area under tight supervision, then maybe A.I.E. P007 would not have escaped?”

“Honestly, it’s your own fault for provoking him,” he mutters. “Hanji and I told you not to make changes to the maze, but of course you never listen. That’s what we’d oughta expect when your brain is the size of a pea.”

“You do not seem to realize that all of our jobs are on the line because of your incompetence!”

“ _My_ incompetence?” Jean retorts. “Shall I refer back to my recent statement that you _provoked_ him?”

“It’s now yours and Dr. Hanji’s job to find him and destroy him!”

“I don’t think that is the wisest idea, Mr. Dok,” he shrugs. “Just try and make some sense out of what I’m saying. We can learn a lot from what had happened yesterday and improve on him. Maybe develop how to prevent him from escaping and destroying everything in his path when he’s angry like he’s the Incredible Hulk?”

“No time for your sarcasm, Mr. Kirschtein!” Nile slams his hand down on the table. “Find it!”

“Now why would you want me to destroy him? Don’t you want that bajillion dollar grant that Zackly wants to fork over to you? That’s kinda counteracting with your evil plan.” he frowns.

“Mr. Kirschtein, we are starting from scratch.”

“What? Did you suddenly realize that what you are creating is actually now more evolved than the average human? Did you want a maid bot instead?”

Jean’s jokes do not humor Dok in the slightest. He just keeps trying to push the subject even further. “If you find this experiment, there will be a large sum of money rewarded to you for your next paycheck.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll get in on your little fad, just shut up for one minute!” He is not afraid to tell Mr. Dok off in the slightest. Besides, what is he going to do after he’d fire the only person capable of developing such an intricate software? “What do you plan on doing while you don’t have it?”

“Well, we need to create a new experiment, now don’t we?”

“You don’t need to,” Jean insists. “This is definitely the most intelligent prototype we have. He is exactly how my father imagined it years ago. And it works, Mr. Dok! He obviously is smarter, since he escaped the lab. He can create strategies; he can feel the emotions and behaviors that the past couple experiments have been rejecting. He is definitely a more superior human being. Why do we need another prototype?”

“Because the robot is too smart,” he says simply. “If you really watched the news, you would have known that that thing tried to kill me before it escaped.”

“I think you are highly exaggerating it, Mr. Dok—”

“And that’s not all in the endless list of possibilities. It might crush our society just by being smarter than everyone else. What if it wants to become the next president?”

“If the A.I.E. really is smart enough, then it wouldn’t run for president, don’t you think?” Jean teases.

“Do not interrupt me again,” Dok gripes. “There are even worse outcomes for that. It could change our entire democracy. It can take over the world, for all we know. All we needed was a subject that can live among us as an _average_ human. Not a genius. That defeats the whole purpose of it innovating our society.”

“You must not have your head screwed on right,” Jean groans. “Wouldn’t it being smarter actually make it an even _better_ asset for our population?”

“You will not be making the decisions for our organization or what we do with our projects! Until you have a Doctorate, then we will take in whatever you have to say, Mr. Kirschtein.”

Jean nods. “Well, okay. But just so you know, the major flaw with those theories is that you say that it could, not that it can. For all you know, it can completely flop.”

“It’s unknown to any of us, but we cannot take any precautions when that thing _has_ caused harm to a human,” he mutters.

“Oh, you’re human now?” Jean chuckles. “I’m surprised.”

“Oh, shut up.” He walks to the door. “But remember what we’ve discussed. I want you to find that piece of junk and destroy it. I am the head of this project, as you already know, and whatever I say goes.”

The thought of Dok still taking control of the project makes him cringe. However, he has to keep playing the part and comply. He wants to stay in this job so that he can still keep an eye on what’s making his father turn over in his grave repeatedly. “Yes, Mr. Dok,” he finally confirms. “But how do you expect to reconstruct the newest model? It was very risky developing Seven.”

“We are going to figure something out. And instead of the original name, we’re going to go with A.I.E. 2.0.”

“That’s very creative, Mr. Dok,” Jean muses. “Especially since you never officially released 1.0.”

“Get back to work, Kirschtein.” Dok then leaves the office after slamming the door.

Once he is alone, Jean sighs heavily. He looks at a tape recorder, playing and stopping the recording periodically. All that is on it is static and what is supposed to be a voice answering questions over the white noise. Now that it has been a while since he first analyzed it, he isn’t sure what it is saying anymore. After putting it away, he grabs a clean tape from the same drawer.

“How am I supposed to remake a behavior code?” he sighs. “There is no way that every code is going to be exactly the same.” He begins jotting down the notes off of his computer. The original code for Seven is on there, and he now needs to reconstruct it, as Dok had ordered him to do. “I can’t go through with it. It took me and my father years to perfect this.”

He thinks back to earlier in the apartment. He can tell that Seven really is trying to take his intelligence and curiosity and put it to use. He loves how amazing it feels to know that he is starting to work like he is supposed to. But knowing that Dok now wants to limit the A.I.E.’s abilities is almost frightening.

Seven behaves much more like a small child than anything else. How could he possibly be capable of intentionally causing harm? Sure, he was surprised to see that he’d managed to get out of his enclosure in one of Nile’s good suits, but he knew that he had done all this out of self-defense and getting himself on the right track.

And just the thought that he knew all of Seven’s coding, behavioral quirks, and given personality brings him a strange sense of pride. He’d assisted Hanji in creating and developing him, and this is the product of over a decade of intense research and experimenting.

There is no way that he could possibly destroy him. He wasn’t even planning on doing it in the first place. No; he wants to observe him. Now that he is outside and interacting in his desired environment, he wants to see exactly how he will survive. Of course, since he has no need to eat, sleep, or drink, there are some variables to his experiment, but he is willing to see just how he will hold up now that he is finally out of the laboratory.

He starts recording on his phone, and he sighs softly. “This is Day One of the A.I.E. P007 Environment Simulation. Yesterday, Seven had escaped the lab and managed to disguise himself to keep him from being seen. I found him in the bathroom stall on the fourth floor of the building. To keep him safe, I brought him home with me and he stayed the night. His brain processes different situations smoothly, and his curiosity is easily stimulated; much like how a child is easily amused. His memory is phenomenal, and he develops his own plans and strategies, seeing that he was able to easily escape the laboratory. Also, he knocked Dok clear off his feet in the process and stole his clothes.” He takes a short pause to laugh. “I actually find that very humorous. However, I would like to look further into what drove him to do that.”

He jots down some notes as well as his voice is recording on the tape. “In the lab—after he was able to start communicating—Hanji gave him the name Seven when he’d wanted to feel a little more human. Now he can feel some of the emotions programmed for him. His behavioral skills are relatively normal. As said before, he acts more like a child than a menace. But with a better street-smart education, he may be able to develop better social skills. In a later taping, I may be able to record Seven while he is going through his daily life.”

He stops his recording there, and he puts his tape recorder aside while he goes on his computer. He now has to spend hours upon days on end trying to construct a new code for a newer prototype’s behavior and emotions. He isn’t sure how exactly Dok wants this done, but he knows that it definitely will not be the same as it was before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter for more shenanigans, shout-outs, and updates! And so you can gaze at my Star Wars obsession, currently.  
> http://twitter.com/flute_fluff


	4. Name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven realizes that he can create his own identity, and he uses his memories to shape up his new name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I JUST posted Chapter 3 last night, but I couldn't wait to post this one! I had Chapters 1-4 ready on standby because of NaNoWriMo, and the first few chapters required A LOT more editing than this one. So this chapter is ready, and I just couldn't wait. Unfortunately, the rest of my updates are not going to be this quick. But I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> Writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: http://twitter.com/flute_fluff

 

Name (n.)

_A word or set of words by which a person, place, or thing is known, addressed, or referred to._

 

* * *

 

 

 _The next few days play out_ the same way as the first. There is not much for Seven to do around the house, so he spends a majority of his time feeding the cat, cleaning the litter box, doing the daily chores, and organizing the apartments. He not once had gone outside, knowing that he isn’t safe with Trost Corp officials looking for him. At least he is safe living under Jean’s care.

Speaking of Jean, he really wasn’t home at the apartment that often. He goes to work a lot more than the time slot he had allotted for him. It’s almost as if he is the only one in the apartment most of the time. Not that he exactly is complaining, but it is an endless, slow-moving cycle around here that he isn’t sure he enjoys.

Seven isn’t sure that Jean has even noticed the changes made to his home. He has rearranged everything, cleaned every nook and cranny in the place—and the cat just recently had her fur brushed. After doing all this for the past few days, there now is not much for him to do. He is growing very bored, as strange as it is to be in that mood.

But one morning while Jean is still sleeping, something exciting finally starts to happen. It starts to rain in the city. Seven has been looking out the window since it began, and he held his hand over his vital core. It was pumping faster than usual because of the wonder and curiosity he is feeling just by watching it. He can’t really go outside in these weather conditions, as far as he knows, but watching it come down is both intriguing and relaxing. Celeste watches the rainfall with him, and she occasionally nuzzles her head against Seven’s chin while resting beside him.

Jean wakes up at seven, a little earlier than usual. He steps out into the kitchen to get something to eat, and it isn’t until he turns around to see where Seven and Celeste were when he notices the sudden changes. He has always gone about his day like clockwork after living alone and having this job, and now that he actually takes the time and sees the hard work Seven had gone through to get the place looking this nice is… astounding.

“Seven… you cleaned up the house?”

He looks over from his little seat. “I have spent the past five days cleaning it up, Jean. You are not very organized, despite your occupation. It does not say anything in the rules about reorganizing your living space, but I hope it is up to your standards.”

“Well it’s true, I didn’t say that, but.” He observes the living room and smiles. “It looks great. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Jean,” he says. “This rain looks really beautiful.”

“Just another rainy day in New York City, Seven,” he teases, but he adds a note in the back of his mind that he is marveled by the rainfall. “You’ll see more of it as the weeks pass. It’s supposed to be a really wet May.”

“A wet May?” he repeats with a confused tone.

“Just meaning that it’s gonna rain a lot this month,” he explains. “It’s an expression. Figurative speech.”

“Oh,” he nods and gets up from the seat. He puts Celeste down.

Jean notices the bandage that is still on Seven’s thumb, and he moves closer. “Hey Seven, I think it’s time that we have a look at your hand.”

He looks up. “You want to see it now, Jean?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry that I’ve been putting it off until now. Lemme see it.” Jean takes his hand and looks at the scratch.

There is no indication of a scab. It looks like there is a gap where there should be skin, but once he looks closer, he can see that the skin has been programmed to mend itself in time. His skin looks a lot more like a fabric once seeing it like this, and now that it has been damaged, it is able to weave itself. Of course, there will be an indication of a scar where the cut was located, but there will be no other messes or marks on his hand.

Jean never thought that his body would be capable of this kind of repair of its own, not realizing that with his engineering, there will also be even more human qualities. It’s remarkable! He wonders what other discoveries he will make from more than just this healing process.

“Glad to see that it is healing,” he assures him. “And I see that there aren’t any signs of erosion or contamination.”

“I wouldn’t want to have any problems on the inside, after all,” Seven insists.

“Exactly,” he grins. He keeps looking around the apartment. “You really did a splendid job in here, Seven. I love it; it’s never looked cleaner in here.”

“Why thank you, Jean,” he smiles.

“Your welcome.” He stretches out his arms with a groan and sits on the couch. “Come. Join me.”

Seven nods and quietly sits beside him. He can hear Celeste padding down the hall while they are sitting together. In this process, Jean turns on the TV. Seven hears the show starting, but he finds no appeal to it. He would like to hear something else, in all honesty.

“What exactly are you watching?” he asks curiously.

“No idea,” he sighs. “I don’t normally watch TV during the day. Most of the stuff that they play nowadays is garbage.”

Seven watches the screen for himself. It was a reality segment on a couple of women fighting over a man. It keeps cutting back to them, as well as showing awkward images of erotica with a voiceover doing a play-by-play of the situation. It is really jarring to watch the women fighting and pulling each other’s hair, as well as the man just watching and commenting on how foolish both of them were. He already doesn’t like the content.

“Do people always behave this way?” he asks Jean.

He shakes his head. “It’s from the pressure of being on camera. It happens to everyone, really. Even reporters, believe it or not.”

Seven quickly loses interest. “Can we watch something else, Jean? Even if you can’t find anything on that is interesting, maybe we can listen to something else?”

“That’s not a bad idea. How about we listen to the radio instead,” Jean interjects as he turns the television off. He moves over to the stereo, where he flicks through stations until he finds the right one that peaks his interest. “This is music. A lot more appealing to the ear than reality TV.”

Seven listens to the different beat and rhythm of the music on the radio. The singing bounces all over the place, indicating that there are different styles within the music. He finds it very intriguing, but he isn’t sure what exactly he likes to listen to better. It is a wide variety as Jean keeps changing the station.

He gets up from the couch to go in the kitchen. “Jean, would you like some breakfast before you go to work today?”

Jean blinks. “You can cook?”

He nods. “There are several books in the kitchen with different recipes. Some of them I can’t make because we do not have the right ingredients. However, there are a couple that I can make for you.”

Jean looks at the different cook books and shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t need anything extravagant, Marco. All that’ll really do is cereal.”

“You only wish to have a cereal? That only takes a minimal amount of effort. After all, I can make something even better and more substantial.”

“Just cereal will do,” Jean insists and walks into the kitchen. “Thank you for the thought, anyways.”

“Why, you’re welcome,” Seven assures him and watches him get everything he needs for a not so complete breakfast. “It is a wonderful feeling being a part of your living space.”

“It’s _our_ living space now, Seven,” He says. “We both share it together. You’re not a ‘part’ of it. You live here too.”

Seven takes this in and looks over. “Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “You’re human, after all.”

The thought of that makes his vitals sing. He is even now considered a human, despite the flaws that he still has to go through. He watches Jean eat his breakfast for another moment longer before sitting back on the couch, letting the sound of the music hypnotize him.

Neither of them make a move to turn the radio down. And it takes him a lot of willpower to keep him envying Jean eating his breakfast. His body cannot take in minerals, for he doesn’t have a digestive system. But just that one ounce of natural behavior puts a damper on his barely rising confidence.

As the humanoid sits on the couch, he studies Jean intently. There is a slight familiarity to him. He can’t tell just yet, though. But whenever he looks at him, he gets a small sense of nostalgia. Maybe it is the fact that he truly longs to live exactly like how Jean does. To truly be a human being. That is all he really wants in the world, and he would do anything to achieve it. If it is even possible, that is.

Jean notices that Seven has been occasionally diverting his eyes from him, and he swallows the bite he’d been chewing. “Thinking?”

He nods in response. “I just wonder why I’m not hungry.”

Jean sighs softly. “It is a much more advanced process to create a digestive system for you. For now, it is unhealthy for you, and it could clog up your insides because there’s nothing to absorb it. We would’ve made one for you if we could,” he assures him. “But it would take years for it to be developed.”

“I suppose so,” He sighs.

They stay in this awkward silence with the music being their white noise until Jean has to get ready for work. Seven listens to the radio a little while longer before turning the volume down to mute. While some music he heard was rather relaxing, others just remind him of nights outside in the city. A nuisance and an insult to his intelligence, now that he has listened to it for so long. And while the technology is phenomenally simple, the television is full of disappointment. Although very intriguing, whatever they decide to play on there is very tasteless. One day, he hopes to see something real and full of life. Just like how it is in the real world. Maybe soon, he will find it.

Jean gets ready to leave right on schedule. “It’s been an eventful morning,” he smiles. “I had fun. How about you?”

“There were some perks,” Seven confesses. “Do you think maybe you can stay home again sometime?”

“Maybe. Depends on how the weather is.” Jean smiles and then pats his back.

It was a little startling, and he looks behind him, only to just hear Jean laugh to himself. He looks back over and lets out a slightly forced laugh. If only it could sound natural, like Jean’s. “That’s very funny, Jean.”

“I know,” he grins. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

They both wave goodbye, and he’s out the door just like that, on his way to the station. These moments are slowly turning out to be short-lived, and he really wants to spend more time with Jean. They’re supposed to live in this apartment together, right? Then why does he always insist on working these insane hours at insane times of the day? He wonders if one day, he would finally just stay home, so that they can experience some sort of bonding. That is how humans interact with each other more closely, isn’t it?

While Jean goes to work, Seven usually goes right back to cleaning the apartment. But today, there really isn’t much of a mess to clean. After a short time maintaining the place, he was done for the day, alone with his thoughts, mostly. And when he starts to get low on battery, he sits next to an outlet by the television and charges his vital core. He would occasionally get up from his perch to feed the cat and clean the litter box, but after that, there really is not that much excitement in the day.

He tries to mimic the sounds he heard on the radio by humming, but he can’t quite get the right pitches. He doesn’t like the way that it sounds in his own ears. However, to him it is worth trying. The memory of the chords, cadences, and pitches is so strong that he wants to vocalize it enough so that he can hear it clearer.

The utter silence starts to become distracting for him, so he goes over to the stereo and turns it on, drowning out the sounds of the people and chaos in the streets below. He finds it hard to believe that things with rather low frequencies can have enough power to create such a constant hum throughout day-to-day life, and he also finds it strange that just turning on music can make the hum dissipate.

This gives him a nice sense of concentration. He thinks about the first day that he had crossed Jean after he escaped. He is pleased that he’d seen him and not someone else; someone that would make him go back to his pathetic enclosure. There is a nice familiarity that keeps him on his toes, and ever since earlier in the morning, he has been desperately trying to pinpoint when exactly he has acquired that strange sense before.

Jean himself has become a more nostalgic entity in his memories than anything else. And there is a point that he suddenly gets drawn back to, back in the laboratory room where he had been confined for a questionable amount of time. When he was still cold, and his skin was still clear and out of place for his body. His eyes were still trying to focus on objects that this point. The more tests they had done, the more time that it took for his senses to be clear. But there were figures in white coats and masks covering their noses and mouths. As if there was something to keep sterile in this room when they were creating an artificial human.

His hearing has been far more superior than his other senses ever since his birth, and at that point in his memory he was still developing his speech. But the people still insisted on asking him all these questions that they wanted him to know the answers to. He can still hear the questions, and they were very similar to the ones that the Commissioner had asked him when they first “unveiled” him. But despite it, they kept their voices clear and slow, like talking to an infant.

One person always stood at the center of him, but he knew it wasn’t Hanji. They were always going at all different points of the room and examining him at every single angle imaginable. This one person’s voice was deeper than theirs, and their eyes were a dull and somber gold. That was the one color he can distinguish. And their eyes always stayed focused on him, barely diverting whenever taking notes or reading them over. They also always had some kind of recorder on them, making sure everything said in the enclosure was stored.

He knows that Jean was in this team with Hanji, but he has never seen him without a medical mask on. Now that he can remember his eyes and the sound of his voice, he can piece together that the person in the lab coat was him after all. And the only question that Seven remembers him asking is that he’d wanted to know why he was here.

 _“Why are you here, Seven?”_ That was his new given name at the time. Nothing extravagant. Hanji had said that it would make him feel more like a human, but it was on the contrary. It was nothing more than a serial number; an organic code.

Seven’s answers were never as clear as the scientists wanted them to be. But this one figure in front of him always liked whatever he was able to come up with, no matter what kind of answer it was.

But most of the time, all he could say was “I don’t know.”

The truth was, he didn’t. No one ever told him why they created him. All he knew was that he was never officially born. They had to construct him and make carbon copies of natural, vital substances to keep him running. He was a machine. That much he knew, for a fact. But why did they create a machine that they intended to be smarter than anyone in the world but then want to reduce his great intelligence?

Of course, he knows the answer to at least that question now. But why he is here, that still hasn’t been cleared up.

_“Why are you here?”_

He remembers looking at Jean while a couple hands kept wrapping measuring tape around his skeletal structure. His vital core was pumping energy into him like an intense mimic of clockwork, speeding up with each passing minute.

“I am here to fulfill the mission of Trost Corp. To create innovation that will last a lifetime.” His brain was more developed like the scientists had intended, but all that was in there was logic. No reasoning, no questioning, no real, natural thought. That was how he was programmed.

_“Tell me why you think you are here, Seven.”_

“I am here to fulfill the mission of Trost Corp. To create innovation that will last a lifetime.”

There was sigh that came from the voice trying to create a conversation with him. _“You said that his brain was ready,”_ he then muttered to who Marco thought at the time was Hanji. Now he can create a better idea of who exactly they were.

 _“It_ is _ready._ _All of the knowledge P007 needs is in there.”_

_“What about the behavior codes? Where are my behavior and common sense codes for its brain?”_

There was an awkward tension in the room that Marco could register at the time. But then the same hands that were measuring him where suddenly firmer and holding back his limbs. He had made no advances, but they restrained him before he could process it. Despite the limits to his brain, there was one thing that he knew. These hands were trying to take him somewhere that he knew there was going to be some form of torment. Every time they add something new to him, it feels strange and almost terrifying. There was always a moment of uncertainty.

“Where are you taking me?” Marco had then asked, very persistent and almost fighting his restraints.

At that point everyone had their eyes on him, as far as he could register. Especially Jean, the one that always asked him these questions.

 _“We are taking you to have your brain repaired.”_ He moved closer to him once again. _“If you want your full intelligence and knowledge, then you have to go through these behavioral modifications.”_

The tension was heightened, and he looked around the laboratory. He was pulled back further.

“Wait! Don’t I have a say?”

Now the same person gave him such a curious look. _“Maybe you aren’t as carbon-copy as I thought,”_ he chuckled. _“It’s just like you to break the mold, with your great spirit.”_

_Great spirit._

Such a mind-boggling statement for Seven, and he still remembers that now. In the end, they did have to still operate on his brain again. And every time they had to take him away, he dreaded it. He knew that they were going to be making changes to him, whether they were good or bad. And all he ever wanted was to be rid of that mold that people keep mentioning he was breaking. There is a much better understanding now of what they might’ve meant by that, but still.

Alone in his thoughts, he still goes through these strange flashbacks. He is in a different room, which he can only have access to if either Hanji, Dok, or Jean needed him to go through education or different simulations. In which none of them he had enjoyed. This was when he wore his leotard, nice and snug to cover his naked body. He’d felt much more comfortable, now that he wasn’t exposed anymore. But scientists still worked on him like they were trying to pick out every single aspect of him. Until he has nothing left.

In this memory, Jean does not have a medical mask on, and a glass wall separates them, much like the maze does.

 _“I think you’re ready,”_ Jean had pointed out while watching him. _“You are very compliant with our requests.”_

“It is what you have given me,” Seven insisted. “I only do as you command.”

He shook his head. _“That is not at all what we had originally planned for you. You understand that, right?”_

“I suppose I do,” he nodded. “Have I done something bad, to deserve this new kind of path for me?”

 _“Of course not. You were just doing what we have programmed for you. And then some,”_ he chuckled. _“You remind me of an old friend of mine.”_ His voice sounded very grim, despite the smile on his face. It seemed a little contradicting.

“A friend?” He tilted his head curiously.

He got a nod out of that. _“You will never know him, for he is no longer around. But he was just as much a part of the project as I am, making sure that everything stayed afloat. Even when all of us had forgotten about how to give a man emotion.”_

Seven blinked. “He seems like an interesting character. Surely, in time there will be some good from what you all had come up with together.”

 _“Right now, it’s working out quite nicely,”_ he assured him. _“Turn around for me… all the way around. Three hundred-sixty degrees, Seven. Yes, very good, thank you._ ”

As Seven slowly spun for Jean, he thought about how his mood had changed all because he had brought up his own memories. One of the many things about humans that Seven thought he would never be able to experience.

Until right now, as he is watching his development take place right in the back of his mind. It is an interesting sight to see; watching his own memories play for him like the film he had always wanted to see.

In the memory, Seven gave Jean a curious look once he’d stopped spinning.

 _“I see you do not get dizzy easily,”_ he hummed as he jotted notes down. _“Very nice work.”_

“What was your friend’s name?”

Jean’s concentration was broken, and he looked up at the subject once more. “Excuse me?”

“I apologize if my interjection meant ill will,” he said, “but it intrigues me that this friend you’ve known once before still provokes hormonal imbalances.”

Jean’s cheeks turned a little rosy, Seven noticed. _“Are you really that interested in knowing?”_

“Of course,” he nodded.

He jotted some more notes down, a slight glint to his eyes while he worked. He looked up and leaned close in his seat. _“His name was Marco Bodt. He’s no longer with us, but he still gives me feelings because he was my best friend in life.”_

“No one else of your friends is better than this Marco friend was?” he asked curiously.

 _“I related the most with him,”_ he explained. _“That’s the beauty of having friendships. You will be able to experience that one day, I promise you.”_

“Friendship,” he hums softly when it ends. And he is then alone with the music once more. That was much lighter than the previous glimpse, and he feels a lot calmer than earlier.

He still thinks about that flashback while he waits for Jean to come home from work in the dead of night. Despite the peculiar hour, he still hears people working and walking outside the apartment building. Turns out that the expression “The City That Never Sleeps” really wasn’t an understatement; something that he quickly realizes is more than just an expression.

He keeps himself entertained late at night, even after he turns off the radio. He has been talking to himself, trying to create an introduction to himself. “My name is Seven… Good afternoon, I’m Seven. Seven is my name, and my last name is…” He sighs heavily. “This sounds completely idiotic.”

He has come to the conclusion that he hates his given name. Seven. Like he has realized before, it’s more like a serial number than an actual name. He wants a name of substance. He wants to give himself an identity. Seven finds it very difficult to find one, or make one of his own. He doesn’t think that he is capable of doing so. But then he thinks back to the memories earlier.

_Marco Bodt._

The name speaks to him. Jean has even said that Seven reminded him of the deceased. And thinking of the friendship and bonds that could ensue from his name choice makes it even better.

“My name is Marco Bodt…” The name sounds much different coming from his lips than Jean’s. It gives him a sense of identity. The one that he has been longing for. And that makes him smile wider than he’d expected. “Good afternoon, I’m Marco Bodt. Marco is my name, and my last name is Bodt.” He chuckles. “My name is Marco… Mr. Bodt.”

Celeste looks up when Seven bursts into a fit of laughter. _Marco_ bursts into a fit of laughter. That is his new name. There is no escaping it, and he feels so alive just saying it.

“I’m Marco!” he grins widely. “I’m Marco Bodt!”

He then is startled when there is a loud banging against the wall. That is a signal that he should be quiet, and he quickly complies without further complaints; despite how excited he is by this revelation. He feels better about himself with this new name, and he wants to keep it.

From now on, his name is Marco Bodt, and he will no longer be addressed by any other name that they try to force onto him. This is his choice, and he doesn’t need anyone to make any more life-changing decisions for him.

After Celeste goes to her bed and drifts off to sleep, he finally hears Jean come in through the door. He feels much more rejuvenated than before, the adrenaline from his name change and his vitals being fully charged combined creating a sense of jubilee that can’t be hindered easily. Jean is sluggish when he comes in, and judging by it being one in the morning, he had a very long day at his job. When he goes into the living room after getting a drink, Marco happily waits for him on the couch.

“You’re up pretty late, Seven,” Jean says with a chuckle. “Usually you’re powered down at this point.”

“I’d charged in the afternoon. I was too deep in concentration to do anything else today,” he says.

“Really?” he hums. “Then, tell me what you did today.”

“I now have a new name,” he smiles, more than happy to express his emotions now more than ever.

Jean’s brain is going off like fireworks. This was an even greater breakthrough than before! He couldn’t help but be just as happy along with him, praising him. “Really? That’s incredible!”

“Yes, it is. And you won’t believe what I have come up with.”

“Tell me,” he insists.

“Marco Bodt.”

He says it so quickly, that at first Marco thought he didn’t understand him. But Jean definitely did. He went from mind blown to extremely distraught at what he had decided to go for. His excitement shattered.

“What did you just say?” Even though he’d heard him, he just wants him to say it again; just to make sure that he’d really heard him correctly.

“My new name.” Marco still has this pleasant looking smile on his face. “It’s Marco Bodt.”

This is one thing that he was very afraid of. Of all names, he had to pick _that one?_ And even the last name is exactly the same. “Why?”

“Because in my memories, you had told me that I remind you of a friend. You said that his name was Marco Bodt, and I had thought that you would be pleased to hear that I remembered that name and wanted to use it as my new identity. I’d thought that you would be as happy as you were before.” He’d noticed the change in emotions as soon as he had said the name, and he isn’t exactly sure why. But he does love his new name more than anything else at the moment.

“I suppose I am glad,” he says. “But I was just curious as to why you didn’t pick your own, original name.”

“I can’t,” he answers. “There are too many other names in the world, and to think of my own name will take a lot of time. Much like, the reason why I do not have a digestive system. You would figure that’d be the reason.”

He frowns. “Seven—”

“My name is Marco now,” he corrects, sounding much more insistent than before.

Jean has to force the name from his lips. “Marco… that name is very important to me, and I’m not sure that you choosing it is a good idea.”

“Well, why not?” he interjects. “I will show you that the choice I had made will benefit your studies, correct? I have chosen my own name without any assistance other than my own thoughts. Now, please let me have my new name.”

He knows that he can’t keep lying about his excuses any longer, and instead he leaves him alone. There is too much familiarity between the android and his lost friend for him to continue arguing about the situation. “Marco, you may keep your name. I’m sorry for being so bold.”

“I forgive you,” he assures with a smile. “I’m far too excited to go to sleep,” he sighs. “But you definitely should. It looks like you had a very long day.”

“I did… and it keeps getting longer,” he jokes.

“Alright, fair enough,” Marco agrees. “And yet, you have another very long day ahead of you. I shall wish you sweet dreams.”

“I always knew you had a great spirit… Good night, Marco,” he sighs tiredly and waves while going to his room.

There is that phrase again. _Great spirit._ Tied in with his identity, it boosts himself up even higher. He can barely contain his excitement about what had unfolded today, and he stays up even later to listen to the sounds of the night.

Jean meanwhile finds it a little more difficult to sleep than he had intended. He’d been lying in the bed for another hour, just thinking about the odd conclusion that Marco had made. Of all names to pick from, he had to…

“No. Merely a coincidence,” he sighs. “He did say that he heard the name in his memories. Maybe that was what influenced his choice.” He curls up in his bed. “Still…”

He thinks it is a little too scary at this point. But he is going to do what Seven asked of him and call him by his new name. Even though he doesn’t think it is the best of choices. If only he could try and talk to someone about the latest breakthrough. Instead, he takes comfort in his tape recorder.

_“Day 6 continued. Seven has created his own identity. He has chosen the name Marco Bodt. As… frightening as the name choice is, I still have to abide by his wishes. He is very insistent about it, and I feel like it will be much wiser if I leave it be. I cannot give him any interjecting information, for I fear that it may provoke him. But I am going to be a better judge of his behavior when I am here with him. I do not want him coming to any more conclusions. It may cause a rebirth of the anguish that I feel, thinking of that name and seeing him….”_

He trails off and quickly stops recording. He finds it in himself to slip closer to slumber. Not without keeping his eyes dry in the meantime.

If only Marco knew what this really does to him, just thinking about his new name.


	5. Emotion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean faces the facts that at work, he has to move on and follow along with the new angle Dok has thrown at him. But not once does he waver from his vigorous observations on his Magnum Opus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another quick update! Last one though tbh, because now I'm up to date with what was left of my NaNoWriMo failure. Hope you enjoy! The plot's gonna move a bit more, I promise.
> 
> tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> Writing Blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com

 

Emotion (n.)

_A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others._

 

* * *

 

 

 _“This is Day Eighteen of the_ A.I.E. P007 Environment Simulation. Marco has been behaving well, adapting new skills to live on his own. He has made himself very comfortable in our living space, even without my company. He experiences senses of longing, however. Whenever he questions where I have been when it is not within my framed schedule, he experiences concern. He reacts to noises, mostly music. He can distinguish different noises and create his own dishes to serve. He remembers sounds more than visuals, as demonstrated with music on the radio.”

Jean looks down at his notes from the previous week, seeing the already vast improvement in Marco’s brain activity. He is definitely putting it to very good use, and it is only increasing in power with each passing day. He can’t help but feel proud. It was because of his coding and behavioral research that Marco is able to create his own emotions and increase in intelligence just by learning, reading, and observing. It is incredible just to watch his performance in everyday tasks.

“Marco is by far the greatest advancement that Trost Corp would have seen in decades. There is just something so amazing about his mechanics and makeup. I think there is even a sense of pride that I feel for the work done with him and on him over the past couple years. It is almost as if he already is human. Give it a couple more weeks, and no one would even know the difference.”

Sometimes, Jean is tempted of just returning Marco to Trost Corp, even if he is disguised, just to perform a Turing test. They probably wouldn’t in a million years, even with their great technology and research of their sleeves. But of course, with all of them knowing what Marco looks like, he knows that it would not end well at all. One day, thought. One day he will prove to the world how great of an advancement he is.

Jean suddenly hears a knock, and he hurries to put his recorder away while the door opens without his say. He looks up to see Hanji come in, and they look as wide-eyed as ever. That can’t be good, then.

“What brings you here, Hanji?” he says while he closes his notebooks and closes a document on his computer.

“Do you have the new behavior files for A.I.E. 2.0?”

“Not yet. You know how long it takes me to get something like that done,” Jean mutters. “How am I supposed to have an entirely new artificial brain makeup up my sleeve within two weeks? Don’t have a response for that then, huh?”

“Well, you know that we are very pressed for time,” they frown. “Dok says that Zackly will be at our throats if we show up to the unveiling empty-handed.”

“He wants to see Seven, right? Then I dunno, why don’t you try and find him to show him, instead of attempting to destroy him?”

“Because Dok makes up the rules for our department,” Hanji shrugs. “You knew the rules when you signed up.”

“I didn’t ‘sign up.’ I’m here so that my father’s research doesn’t go down the deep end.”

“And is down the deep end, Jean?”

“Of _course_ it is!” he retorts and sits back further in his seat. “So, what is the model for 2.0, Hanji?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain… But, this one is a female model,” they start. “We want to make it into a fighting machine. Dok is refreshing his entire campaign and centering it around boosting our military. We can’t be too careful with our defenses, you know.”

“The military?!” He clenches his fists. “It seems like a good idea, but you don’t know of the precautions or repercussions of making an A.I.E. that can potentially take down a grown man alone. There’s a lot that you can do with a combat fighter,” Jean adds. “I’m sorry, but my father did not want to create a humanoid weapon. This isn’t going off the deep-end, Dr. Hanji. This is going off the deep-end and hitting the concrete on the other side of the fucking pool!”

“I believe you are over exaggerating, just a little bit,” Hanji states. “You need to realize that while his research is marvelous the way it is, there have to be some changes to the project. Times have changes, Jean. Just like we have to adapt on our own accord, so does his research.” They reach over to Jean’s computer and open one of his coding documents. “I understand that you want to keep the true intent of his thesis alive, but you have to understand that this is just a base. The A.I.E. is definitely meant to be much more to the world than just an artificial evolution. Soldiers can be created from this genetic construction, and we can physically modify the behavior of a person just by pushing a few buttons on a computer. Now _that_ is remarkable, Jean. Look at what you have in front of you, and then take in everything that I just told you. Now which sounds more probable for our situation? Sending a superior soldier into our ranks that we can create our own modifications to any time, or a carbon-copy of a domestic housewife?”

Part of him doesn’t want to believe what they are saying. His father didn’t want his research leading to or causing violence—he wanted to help people. This idea that Hanji is trying to explain to him sounds almost crazy and ridiculous, compared to everything that he is used to. Even everything with his simulation with Marco. He doesn’t want to create this soldier. He wants to create a human being. Life on Earth that doesn’t have to involve the grossly long process of reproduction. With all good intentions in mind this time around.

“I suppose the next upgrade sounds a little better to work with, judging by our situation.” He gets a bad taste in his mouth as he says it.

“See what I mean?” Hanji grins and nudges his shoulder. “Now, I really need those codes by the end of this week. So if you don’t mind just, hurrying it along so that we can get Zackly’s quick approval instead of having him wait three months like with Seven.”

“Yeah yeah,” he sighs. “You talk way too much, you know.”

“I’m aware of this,” they shrug.

He rolls his eyes and goes through his current document. “So are we going to keep the generic name of P008 for this one? Or even better: A.I.E. 2.0 P001. Now that’s a hell of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

“I actually wanted to name this prototype in the series myself,” they then say. “I’m calling her Annie. Giving her some substance.”

“Oh, and I thought Dok didn’t want any of that attachment to our experiments bullshit,” he grumbles. “So… Why did you name her?”

“It’s simple, just like her design. I wanted her to have a simple name instead of just a serial number.”

Her wording makes him cringe.

“And you are going to be very pleased with how diverse her look is.”

“It shouldn’t be me that you’re trying to impress,” he says simply. “What is Dok going to say when you tell him that you not only named the latest prototype, but you are going to design her to your best interests?”

“He knows already,” they frown. “Also, I don’t know what kind of behavior system you used for that one, but he felt way too natural to be an android.”

“That was the whole idea!” he insists. “That was what he would’ve wanted. And instead of tossing Seven in the trash, we should’ve nurtured him. You knew that he was not a killing machine, or whatever the hell Dok wants to do to fuck everything up.”

“Well, we just gotta work with our new material. You just have to accept that.”

Jean watches them gather up their things. “Alright. I see that you’re really into this idea, just like you were with Seven. I guess that shows you aren’t entirely heartless about the whole situation after all.”

“Well, you were right when you said that he was remarkable. But we’ll make Annie just as remarkable. I know it.”

“But for the wrong intentions,” he sighs. “And I bet you probably already have plans for _more_ prototypes, right?”

“You must be quite the mind reader,” Hanji chuckles. “You caught me there. Do you want to see them?”

He nods. “Of course I do.”

They then show him the sketches. “Connie conjured these bad boys up in the design department. While Annie looks more like a natural human, he’s added these two. And I’m all for it, honestly. The first one—right now we’re just calling him B—he’s got these more diverse proportions compared to Annie. He’s going to be over six feet tall. And R over here, I can’t wait to start with him as well. He’s going to have these amazing strength attributes. We all know that the soldiers are going to have to withstand anything that goes at them. And why not add more options to our soldiers by developing them to deal with any obstacle that fits their needs and desires? These are going to be the best creations yet.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He is ashamed to admit that he really does like their designs. And the notes for them are very detailed, to top it all off. “Maybe doing their behavior codes will not be as bad as I thought they would be. And the names are just a little bit more original,” he teases.

Hanji nods and gives him one of the files. “These are the attributes we are asking for with Annie. We don’t have anything for B or R yet, but we know that giving Zackly different soldiers to work with would give us a better chance at receiving more funding.”

“Because it’s always about the money.” His sing-song tone makes the professor laugh, and they nudge him while settling down. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it. Now, I gotta get enough caffeine to get me through the next few weeks.”

“Good luck with that,” he calls while they leave.

Jean knows that by now, most of the members of the production team work in the morning, which foils with his plans of keeping away from Dok throughout his shift. But the adjustment might do him some good when it came to his personal life. He obviously has been spending much more time either here or sleeping the past couple years than anything else.

Besides, he misses working with everyone else, anyways. He’ll admit that, despite the weird taste in his mouth he receives when wondering what their latest findings are taking them. He decides that he is going to start with his new schedule in the next coming week, knowing that no one really would question why he was staying earlier than usual, except to point out that they hadn’t seen him in a while and missed him, or whatever.

He is sure that maybe Marco would be pleased that he is going to stay at work during the day and be home at night. He hopes that the change in schedule wouldn’t throw him off too much, either. It might be a little too much for him to take in. But there is only one way to find out, exactly.

\--

 _The change really is sudden for_ Marco. He automatically noticed on the Monday that Jean changed his schedule up. He had gone to bed very early the night before, and he was awake at five o’clock. He’d gone right the door at seven, and then he was home at quarter to six. Although the hours are long, the times that he leaves and comes home are much different. He was now home at night and in bed at eleven. This was a strange set-up, compared to the usual afternoon shifts that Jean used to do. And the only sensible thing that he can think of doing is confronting Jean about the change.

“Why are you going to work much earlier than normal?” he asks him a couple days after the change. Of course, he’d needed to make sure that the change was definitely permanent before saying something. “You usually do not have this routine.”

“I know, I don’t,” Jean says. “There are new changes with future experiments, and I have to be there earlier now to communicate with the whole team.”

There is a pause as Jean is eating his breakfast. “…Future experiments?”

He looks up. “Well, yeah. We’re scientists. Things have to be changed and edited all the time?”

“What are you and your colleagues working on?”

Jean rubs the back of his next. “Well… we’re creating a new and modified version of… well, you.”

It pains Marco to hear that they can easily replace him. “And what are you going to do?”

“They are gonna be programmed to be soldiers,” he explains. “Dok’s changing the entire angle. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about it either.”

“Soldiers? That seems impractical. Why create killing machines, when there can be more people like me?”

He chuckles. “Very true. But I’m trying to keep some kind of faith in the project,” he assures him. “And don’t worry. They’re not coming to the apartment.”

Marco sighs in relief. He doesn’t think that he will be able to take that kind of intrusion. Especially when these humanoids are going to be much different than he is. Soon he breaks the silence. “I like these new hours, Jean. They should stay this way. I now can cook different meals for you now.”

Jean smiles. “That is the least of our worries, Marco. Trust me.”

He shrugs and heads back into the kitchen. “Will you go back to your normal schedule once these experiments are complete?”

“I really don’t think so, Marco,” he admits, going back into his room for a moment. He gets his notebook from his bag and opens it to the latest page. Very briefly, he jots down notes explaining what has happened in their conversation earlier. Every little thing that happens is considered good research, in his opinion. He has to know what exactly goes on and how Marco behaves. His curiosity and even apprehension can create a great annotation.

“He is very intuitive,” he muses to himself. “Sure, he may seem a little hesitant and anxious when talking about the experiments, but he still accepts it. Even if it seems like he doesn’t like it.” He chuckles and puts his notebook back in the bag.

He gets dressed for work and keeps checking the time. This schedule change isn’t as easy as he has made it out to be. And just like he expected, most of the people there were just shocked that he was back around in the mornings. Well, of course this gives Dok a better excuse to barge into his office periodically and remind him of how important my research for their organization was.

He could take all of that, just to have a decent chance of seeing the creation process of their latest experiment. And knowing that he plays a very important role in it is enough to make him shine from how proud he was of the finished product. That was exactly how he was with Marco, after all. And maybe this new experiment will have the same effect on him. Hanji seems to have that mentality already, and Annie wasn’t even off the notes yet.

Of course, the process of creating a whole new genetic code and behavior system to meet specific needs is exhausting. And working now in mornings doesn’t help as well as he’d hoped. People just keep interrupting him way too much at first for him to get anything constructive done. It is a tough placement, but of course despite the difficulties, he can slowly adjust to the new environment. He fixed most of his problems by putting several locks on the door when he is busy in his office.

People constantly knocked on his door, but after several days, they finally stopped. He becomes at peace with his work. He has to admit that working on three different minds at once is a real hassle.

Annie is his favorite. He loves giving her a rock hard interior and making her able to fight for herself. He thinks she is a great defender, and he hopes that Hanji likes her combat skills. B and R are a little harder, though. He doesn’t like all three of them having the same exact personalities, and adding variety is precarious territory. Of course he wants their human aspects to become more diverse. But he isn’t sure how much sensitivity for B and protectiveness for R ends up being so much that they become flawed.

It takes six whole shifts to finish his work, and even then he is still trying to nitpick each one. He tries to be extra careful when constructing these areas of their brain, and despite his feelings about it, he is very pressed for time. The professor has started to get very impatient from him taking this long. Apparently they had started to construct their bodies, even though he isn’t sure they have the right materials.

There is a knock on the door one Wednesday morning is Jean finishes polishing R’s software. He gets up and has to knock on the door when seeing both Hanji and Dok standing right there. He isn’t given much time to invite them in before they both just walk right in.

“Are they finished?” Hanji asks impatiently.

“Almost,” Jean sighs. “It’s not easy creating three fighting machines in such a short amount of time, you know.”

“No need for your sarcasm,” Dok frowns. “We even have started generating the combat skills.”

“Already? But the models aren’t even made yet.”

“Well, we’re running out of time, as you may already know. So we need you to stay focused for just five minutes, if you can. And keep it in intervals.”

“Dok, come on…”

Dok starts to walk out. “Come into the lab. We need you to get this software right. There can’t be any mistakes for Mr. Zackly.”

“Fine,” Jean sighs and gets up from his computer. He walks out of the room and makes sure he has his keys before he locks it off. “So you’re saying that you have software for the combat skills available for me?”

“That’s going to be in a separate department, but it’s all going to the same place,” Hanji insists. “I want you to meet the mind behind it all. You’re more than likely going to need her help.”

“That’s a strong statement there, Professor,” Jean teases. “You really think that I need help?”

“Maybe,” they say jokingly as the three of them enter the lab. Everyone is each working on a certain part of the skeleton of each new A.I.E., which means everyone in here is put to work. Jean hasn’t seen the laboratory so busy ever since he first worked during this time frame.

“Wow, everyone is actually working,” he points out.

“Shut up,” they frown and then walk up to a woman that was standing in the old room where Marco was originally kept. She is wearing a helmet and a special suit that picks up all her different combat motions. She practices her techniques on a punching bag and a life-sized dummy.

Jean watches her fight and is impressed with her skills. Although, there is a nagging thought that she has never been in here before, and he is unsure of how they were able to get her to come in here and give them the information that they need for their latest creations. “Who is that?”

“Well, she is the person that I want you to meet.” They step into their office, which is now repaired after the incident with Marco. They use the microphone in there. “Ackerman, take a break.”

The woman looks up when hearing the voice. She gives a nod and takes off the helmet. She walks into the office. She is a rather beautiful woman with short black hair, and she looks like she could kill a person with just a blink of her eyes. Almost exactly like the way he constructed Annie’s software, actually.

“Jean, this is Mikasa Ackerman. She is our combat specialist, and she has been our consultant for the past few weeks. She is an expert in martial arts, and she has been studying the history of warfare at the University of Virginia. She is more than qualified to help us develop the skills that Annie, B, and R need to function.”

“I never said that she wasn’t,” Jean chuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ackerman.”

Mikasa gives him a nod. “This is Jean Kirschtein, Professor?” she hums.

“Yes. He works on the behavior development, and he constructs the software for our experiments’ brains. He is going to know all three of them like the back of his hand once they are complete.”

“Quite a talent, there,” Mikasa agrees. “However, do you think these three experiments that they are talking about will be powerful enough to face any enemies in our way?”

“More than enough,” he insists. “I’m sure that they will even be great enough to fight alongside you. We are going to make sure that our country is safe with more soldiers like them around.”

“You know, it takes more than fighting skills to be a good soldier. They also need to be level-headed and rigid. Being emotional in a battle is the same as being left for dead.”

Jean gulps. “I’ve taken that into consideration. And of course, they will not disappoint you. They are as leveled and sound as they could possibly be.”

“Good,” she muses. “Now, they are supposed to be evolved humans?”

“More or less, yes,” Jean says. “They will be able to adapt to environment changes much quicker than the average human. The goal is for them to be our predecessors once we start to die off.”

“So the human race becomes…lifeless robots?”

“No, not lifeless at all,” he insisted. “My late father, Dr. Alistair Kirschtein, has proposed that with the proper genetic makeup and nurturing, they could be as natural and full of life as the person standing next to you.” He glances over at Dok, who just so happens to be next to her. “Maybe, even more so.”

Dok frowns. “That hypothesis has been disproven, Kirschtein. There was no life in P007.”

“How can you say that, Mr. Dok? He was the greatest breakthrough that Trost Corp has ever had.”

“Enough with your story telling, Kirschtein. There is a lot of work to be done now.” Dok looks at Mikasa. “Ms. Ackerman, if you don’t mind. We must test your defensive skills in the training room.”

“Of course, Mr. Dok.”

The four of them both step out of the laboratory. The training room is on the second floor. That is usually where the experiments would stay to develop their skills. They had Marco in there for several months before he was put back in the lab just to live in isolation.

When Jean steps inside, he sees that they had turned the training room into what looks like a weight room. There is one wall that is a whole double-sided mirror, where there is another empty looking room separate from the whole complex.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Jean frowns. “What happened to the education area?”

“That’s in another room across the hall,” Hanji explains. “There, they will be able to develop whatever academic skills we will give them.

“Which are limited,” Dok reminds them. “Again, we want to create these evolved humans to be experts in combat, and not intellect. Our world will need more fighting knowledge than book knowledge in this day and age.”

“I understand,” he says out of reluctance. “Now, where will Mikasa be training for defense, exactly?”

“In the simulation room.” Hanji points over to the empty room that is shown in the double mirror. “In there, so long as she keeps the helmet on, it will simulate different types of fighting and self-defense situations. There, she will display how she fights against them. And the helmet memorizes her stances. We then take that information back, and we develop it for the A.I.E.’s software. Everything always leads back to the laboratory in this room.”

“I see,” he nods and watches Mikasa go in the room.

Hanji sits down in front of a control board. “This controls the simulations. See… once she gets settled in there, I will just push a few buttons here… and bam, she now sees a mugger coming at her and trying to get her purse.”

Jean looks up. He can’t see anything except for Mikasa, and almost automatically after Hanji sets up the simulation, she fights. It takes her fifteen seconds of fighting at the air before Jean sees a green light flash.

“I’m guessing that means she won the fight?”

“Yes, and that the simulation is over,” they nod. “Next, let’s try a group of thugs.”

He can see all of the effort Mikasa puts into her kicks and punches against the artificial attackers. It must be very realistic once wearing the helmet. And almost every stance and block she does is different from the first. Probably so that the professor has more to work with. The green light flashes in no time.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” they grin. “Now, imagine Annie going through this simulation. Or B, or R. Doesn’t that just keep the blood pumping, Jean?”

He chuckles. “I suppose it does. Now, are you simulating firearms too?”

“Not yet. I’m hoping to get on that tomorrow. I just don’t have the right equipment for it yet.” Hanji turns the simulator off after about six more times of Mikasa fighting. The woman looks pretty proud of herself too. It’s not every day that someone gets to do this for an experiment, after all.

“Now that I know how much you really do need this software, I’ll have it completed by the end of the day,” Jean says before he goes on ahead out of the room first. He walks back to his room and rubs the back of his neck.

Once again, he isn’t sure if creating these new A.I.E. prototypes as means of combat and warfare is a good idea. They’re creating life, and the purpose of having children is to nurture them and bring them up to be model citizens. At least, that was the intention with Marco. It seems that they really did a good job of keeping that concept alive with him. Now, are these three going to be treated like they are first enlisted into the military? That definitely wouldn’t be reasonable, because being first created for these A.I.E.’s is just like being a newborn. You wouldn’t scream at an infant like a drill sergeant, right?

Maybe he thought way too deep into this. There is going to be an entirely different concept with the new prototypes, so maybe there will be different modifications to their development. But all the same, he chooses to remain cautious about this whole thing. It doesn’t matter if he enjoys what he does, creating a massive portion of their brains and observing their behavior. He is afraid that he will have to approach them like they are wild animals. But if they are going to be fighting machines upon their birth, he might have no choice.

\--

 _His portion of the experiment is_ complete. However, despite it being done and revised to perfection, he still has to show up every day to check on the progress of the construction. He notices that they really went double time with their production, because after two days, the skeletons were complete. Creating synthetic flesh is the most meticulous part of the process, and there has to be specific workers to develop it. The organs are created in another department within Trost Corp, and of course Hanji is the one that has to piece them together, like a grotesque, robust version of jig-saw puzzles.

It seems that as their work progresses, they get frequent visitors outside of the building. Of course, after what had happened with Dok when Marco escaped, word had gotten out about their experiments. And there are quite a few people that are in an uproar about it. They think that Trost Corp is an abomination of a company, and there are two complete opposite sides of the argument involved in this.

One half of these whack jobs think that creating artificial life goes against everything that they believe in. There are lines that Trost Corp are crossing that they should cease and turn back right away. And then, something about evolution or whatever. Jean stops paying attention to them after a while.

The other half actually has a case that Jean can agree with. They should not be creating life just to make a profit out of it. They are creating human beings at Trost Corp, as much as most people would refuse to admit it and refer to them as machines, or robots. There will never be a way for them to fabricate the fact that they are creating life, whether that life is artificial or not. And testing on them is like testing on animals in a lab. They consider these creations excuses to test on humans, which hereby can abuse these androids before they have a chance to experience life in the real world. Out of all these arguments that Jean has heard outside the window to his office, that one might be the most legitimate out of all of them.

And that makes him fear for the lives of these three prototypes. They are going to be considered alive once they are activated. They will have beating hearts—granted they’re more like batteries than actual hearts—and they will have organs that will give them means to function, including their brains. They can create work on their own, and they will be able to process their own thoughts and have their own interpretations. Just like any other human in this world. And what is going to happen to them if people like Dok force them to work on combat and simulations that will sure as hell cause some trauma to newborn androids.

So long as Jean can supervise their development, he will not let them go through that. He makes a solemn vow of that. He will not stand for that. And if anyone tries to stop him from protecting them, he will know that they really need to question their priorities.

He looks at his latest observations of Marco. He can fully function in the apartment on his own, creating his own work that is anything but cleaning and cooking. And every time he watches him do anything at home, it is like a work of art. He knows that he was able to make that happen and allow him to entertain himself and live for himself. _He_ created him. And he wants that same pride for Annie, B, and R.

He feels like a father to the three newest creations. Despite all the effort that he put to Marco, he was much more involved with the production of the new ones, for more reasons than one. And he can say that this created a stronger bond that he hopes would stay with him for the rest of their development. If he can give them some sort of nurture to get them through these harsh conditions that they might endure, he will do that for them.

He even named B and R, wanting them to have some individuality when they get to work. B was renamed Bertholdt, and R was renamed Reiner. Hanji even likes their names. Serves them right for just giving them initials that they lived by for weeks.

As he is lost in his train of thought, Jean then hears something get thrown at his window. A pebble, maybe, because it doesn’t penetrate through the glass. At any rate, he rushes to the window to see what happened. Turns out, it is just some protestors outside, but they are growing a little hostile. Jean pushes open his window and looks down at the commotion.

“Hey, what the fuck?” he frowns. “Don’t you know better than to destruct private property?”

“It’s not private, jackass!” one of the protestors shouts. “How dare you, working for these demons!”

These must be the conservative protestors. That makes Jean roll his eyes. “Cmon, go home! You should be grateful that we even do something to help the community!”

“Help?!” Another person laughs out. “They are creating these things, to do what? Put them through punishment? They have lives too, you know!”

Both wings of the argument must be in cahoots with each other today. “Guys, it’s not worth your time. Don’t you all have jobs of your own to hate?!”

The results are screams from both sides, and he quickly closes his window when another rock was thrown at it. He sees officers come to back them away from the site. He shakes his head and returns to his seat, running a hand through his hair.

“No matter what those jackasses say, I love what I do,” he mutters and looks up at the clock. He realizes that he’d better get home. With the crowd outside—that increases with each passing day—it is getting to be even more of a difficult task. Because of the outburst he had created outside, he has to get a police escort to the train station. He sits in the back seat of the cruiser, holding his bag.

“Is it true what they say?” the officer mumbles as he looks at the road. “Are you creating those things just to make a profit?”

“Of course not,” Jean frowns. “Maybe other people in the project have that idea, but not me. I’m more or less… like a parent, to each experiment.” He leans back and sighs. “Don’t you know me any better, Eren?”

The officer turns his head to look at him and can’t help but start to laugh. “That’s Officer Jaeger to you, Kirschtein,” he teases and pays attention to the road once more. “I missed you. You never hang out at my place anymore.”

“That’s because your dad keeps visiting,” he says. “You know how much he hates my work.”

“That’s only because he’s an obstetrician.” Eren is still laughing. “Fuck taking you to the station, I’m taking ya home, buddy.”

Jean crosses his arms, making sure that his things are within an arm’s length. “You know, just because we’re not birthing actual babies into the world, doesn’t mean we’re not creating life. Your dad has been harping with my dad about that for years.”

“Don’t take it to heart, Jean,” he groans exasperatingly. “That’s just how he is. I’m sure your work is very… intricate.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he pouts. “You know, I’m glad we’re still friends.”

“So that’s what this is?” he grins. “I was afraid that maybe after banging you, I complete obliterated the concept of friendship for us.”

He blushes and rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, you schmuck.”

“That’s all ya got?” Eren smirks. “You’ve called me better in bed!”

“Shut up!” He hits his seat, but they both know the action is playful.

“Hey, no distracting the driver!” he frowns. “If I get just one smudge on the interior, the Commissioner will have my hide.”

“Alright, alright,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

Eren nods his forgiveness and turns the corner. They are almost at the apartment. “So, when are you going to invite me over?”

He bites his lip. “Eren, you know I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Not for that,” he scoffs. “I mean, just to hang out. Dinner, movie, maybe a game or two. Like old times.”

Jean seems very hesitant about the idea, mostly because of Marco being in his apartment. “See, here’s the thing. I’m not ready to have anybody over yet. I gotta get myself settled, and these long shifts keep me from keeping everything organized. Once I have it together a little more, I’ll be able to invite you over.”

“Alright, that’s cool,” he insists. He pulls up to the building once they are there. “I hope you know that I really do care about you.”

“Yes, Dad,” he teases as he gets out of the cruiser. He approaches the window. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Good,” he winks with a grin on his face. “I’m always looking out for you.”

He waves at him as he steps back. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yep.” He waits until Jean is inside the building until he pulls away.

Jean goes up to the apartment with a sigh, stepping in looking as exhausted from today’s excursions as he felt. “Marco, I’m home.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Marco suddenly rushes up from the guest room, his face bright with a wide smile.

Jean blinks. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better!” he laughs. “I started reading the books that are in the guest room. They’re truly fascinating!”

He lets out a chuckle and gives himself some breathing room. He is glad though that he has something to do around here. “Good to hear. Give it a little bit, and I’m gonna have to get more books for you at the library.”

“That would be so greatly appreciated, Jean,” he confesses with a grin.

Jean looks around the living room a little more and sees his cat resting on the couch. “And I see Celeste has gotten a bath? How’d you manage that?”

“She was very cooperative with me,” he explains. “I feel so… so ecstatic! For once… I’m not feeling such overwhelming boredom being alone in the apartment.”

He listens to him, more or less observing him. “That’s very good to hear, Marco.”

“I’m so happy I could…” Marco starts to laugh more. “Now I can make you a nice, home-cooked meal. And afterwards we can maybe watch films on the television. Oh! Maybe I can also tell you about my adventures reading the stories!”

“Hey, Marco slow down,” Jean chides as he holds his shoulders. “How about we take things one event at a time, okay?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

It is strange to see Marco so happy, but at the same time it is really refreshing compared to the default, stoic expression that he usually wears on his face. It makes him look even more natural! For a moment, even Jean can’t even tell the difference.

Just that last thought is enough for him to start to backpedal away from it. For a moment, he really can’t tell, and the android horribly resembles Marco—the _real_ Marco. The man that was lost in his memories. The devastating realization is a damper on his suddenly happy mood.

He senses Marco’s confusion, and he just tells him that he has to use the bathroom. He does go in there, but he stays in there and just stares at his face in the mirror. His arms tremble as he grabs the sink with clenched fists. He doesn’t want to be jaded away from reality when it comes to this. This Marco is not the real one. He hated that they made him look _exactly_ like the one that he has lost. He couldn’t have asked for a worse punishment.

Jean has to dry his eyes as he looks at himself. “Pull yourself together,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath. “You have to stay professional. Don’t fall for it.”

He finds himself feeling stuck. He knows that he can’t get too wrapped up in emotions when it comes to his experiment, but he can’t help himself. He still tries to hold himself up and give himself the pep talk he wishes he had gotten when he’d first lost him. He has to keep calm. But even as he relaxes and heads out of the bathroom to entertain Marco, he keeps thinking about the painful familiarity between the A.I.E. and the man that was lost in his memories.

And every time he hears that honey sweet laughter, he thinks of the man that was lost in his memories.


	6. Longing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.I.E. 2.0 has been activated, and although Jean wants them to hold onto as much education and philosophy as he can, there are conflicts between Nile and the other members of the team that keep him from letting Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner absorb what he thinks is most important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new semester has started, so I am trying to keep my focus more on my piles of work than writing. However, that does not mean that I should be entirely inactive, right?? I'm going to update as much as I can and whenever I can, and thank you all for being so patient. I hope you enjoy the latest update!
> 
> tumblr: http://flutefluffs-trash-bag.tumblr.com  
> writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com

 

Longing (adj.)

_Having or showing yearning desire._

 

* * *

 

 

 _When Jean first got hired, he_ was the youngest member of the team. However, he could not let anyone ruin his father’s work. When he’d first started, he didn’t realize that there was someone else in the behavioral program. It was a dual partnership between him and an apprentice that he’d chosen to work alongside him. Jean could say that he had the pleasure to meet him and had no problems with him, considering he did very well assisting his father during the last few months of his life. Marco Bodt was his name, and he exclusively he was the one person that was always on Jean’s good side.

Marco obviously had learned a lot from Dr. Kirschtein. He had developed a quick knowledge of his research, and both he and Jean were able to work with each other when coming up with different spreadsheets and coding. Jean had a better knack for putting everything together, though, but Marco didn’t mind that at some aspects they weren’t so easily matched. They both had their strengths and weaknesses, and they took advantage of that so that they could work together on the latest prototype for A.I.E.

“We gotta observe P006 today,” Jean said as he looked up from his schedule. “Apparently Dok wants us to keep a good monitor on her behavior.”

“Why does he insist that the android is going to be automatically responsive?” his comrade sighed. “You can’t expect a newborn to tell the difference between a letter and a circle, so what makes him think that the same logic does not apply to something that was just activated last week?”

“Has it really been a week?” Jean groaned with a chuckle. “I honestly didn’t realize it was that long ago.”

“A _week_ is considered ‘long ago,’ Jean?” he laughed as they both left the office. “Anyways, what are your latest education plans for her today?”

“Well, first off, I would like to give her a sense of identity. So far, she has not been responsive to any daily life simulations, which leads me to believe that right now she has the mind of an infant.” Jean looked down at his notes as the duo went down the hall. “It is only a temporary quirk, and you did say that P005 had the same issues upon its first activation. Maybe with some tender care, we can get P006 to have a more prominent sense of security. That might allow her to develop her social skills quicker.”

“I think that’s reasonable,” Marco insisted. “Something tells me that when they put her and even P005 off the assembly line, they intentionally weren’t considering the fact that maybe we will have to help them develop.”

“Right? What a bunch of hacks,” Jean teased and they both entered the laboratory. At the end of the walkway, there was Hanji’s office and the display for the latest A.I.E. P006 was the first to not completely short circuit as soon as she was activated since the very first prototype, which showed a lot of promise already.

“Ah, I’m glad you both are here,” Hanji mused as they looked at the different angles of the surveillance footage in the maze. “I think P006 is finally trying to communicate. Such a nice step up from how it’s been behaving recently.”

“I mean, it’s only been a week.” Jean shrugged and looked at one of the screens. “I see that she’s observing her environment much better than the previous observations. She’s not just a statue the whole time.”

Hanji looked up. “Jean, it’s a machine. We can’t give it an identity until we determine that it’s functioning properly.”

“I really don’t care what Mr. Dok’s regulations are,” he muttered. “She’s born, and therefore she deserve to have an identity of her own.”

“Let’s just stay focused on the task at hand. It is really crucial that we get it ready for when we unveil it to Zackly.”

“Dok already has plans of unveiling her?” He groaned and sat back. “We don’t even know if she’s a success yet.”

“Well, it is a tentative date. Nothing is really set in stone, as of now.”

“Okay…” He looked at the screen still and watched how the android was becoming more aware. Marco was too, and there was a bright twinkle in his eyes that accented his overwhelming pride.

“Look at her…” He muses as he presses his hands against the glass of the wall. “She’s so fragile, but there is so much knowledge in her. She has the capability of reciting speeches, equations, and philosophies with just one breath and focused thought. And yet, as she roams she still has yet to find what beauty is stored in her mind.” He seemed very whimsical about it, but Jean always enjoyed that about him. Marco looked towards the others. “I remember how excited I was when I was here for my internship during the unveiling of P005. He was also a really special gift.”

“Are you affectionate to the androids?” There was a teasing tone to Jean’s voice to let his companion know that he meant well.

“Well, nothing in the romantic sense, obviously,” Marco laughed shyly. “But when I was taken under your father’s wing, he helped me learn how to appreciate each of their lives more. It almost remind me of how caring I am of my younger sisters.”

Jean gave him a small smile. “I’m glad that there are people like you that see them like this. It is hard to find that in this facility.”

“I mean, just the ability to create life like this, it’s remarkable! We’ve surpassed many odds, and no one else has been able to create androids to have such a natural feel to them. And at the same time, there is so much power in them in each circuit that they can still be fully function for the next five hundred years! It’s amazing!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he assured him and sat back.

In haste, Marco went up to the microphone. “Good morning,” he smiled as he spoke. “I hope you have been properly charged overnight. We have a lot of good things in store for you in development, and we shall be able to present them to you over the week. You have a wonderful day.”

Probably the first thing that made Jean feel like he was definitely someone he could trust with his studies was hearing how nurturing he was when he’d spoken into the microphone. He could see that the android had heard him, but she quietly waved in a random direction. She still had yet to memorize and navigate through the maze to know where everything was. Her solid expression seemed to be lightened just by hearing the voice wish her a wonderful day.

“Good morning to you too.”

Just the response from P006 got Marco leaping for joy. He’d definitely learned a lot from Jean’s father about how valuable each android was. And as they worked together on the team, Jean knew that he and his new partner were going to work even greater with one another than he had ever imagined.

 

* * *

 

 _As the train slows to a_ stop, Jean regains his focus. He gathers his things together and prepares to get off. Trost Corp was only a couple blocks away from the station, and he has to muster up some kind of courage to get through the next several hours.

After all this time working on the three new editions to the Artificial Intelligence Evolution line, they are now going to be activated. It is a special occasion for him, since he could be there for their “birth.” Their bodies had been fully rendered a week ago, but now their minds have been developed and are almost fully installed.

Despite how delighted he should be, he can’t help but feel a little nervous. Bertholdt, Annie, and Reiner have become like his children in such a short amount of time. It was a strong, paternal instinct that he had yet to explain to others. He was barely a part of Marco’s development, just rushing to work on the software for him without witnessing the construction of the hardware. Of course, he regrets those circumstances greatly. Now he has to look towards the future and take care of the new creations while their minds are still tender. He needs to for as long as he possibly can—before Nile gets a stronger hold on them.

Jean rushes into the laboratory, not wanting to miss a single moment of this. He scrubs himself up to make sure that the environment inside the development room is sterile. But he can barely contain his nerves as he holds his notepad. He looks towards his companions, who do not seem to have such a strong attachment like he does.

Hanji notices that all of the scientists of the team are present, and they go to the three separate chambers with their new assistant: an intern named Moblit. The chambers each contained an unconscious and exposed android each, with their veins glowing green under their skin while their circuits are being revved to life. Their chest glow with the help of their cores pumping the energy they need to function. They open the chambers, and after the chilling smoke passes, the glow on their skin dies down.

Reiner is the first to be responsive. He inhales sharply through his mouth to gasp for air, which startles Moblit to the point where he flinches back out of reflex. Meanwhile, Jean’s eyes are as bright as their veins were before, and he vigorously takes notes while observing their first moments of life. Reiner looks at himself with a sense of curiosity, still gasping for air after facing the suffocation of the chamber. His movements are far from mechanical, and he is quick to cover his exposed regions out of an engraved habit of privacy.

Jean observes from a distance, not wanting to disturb the androids while they are absorbing the atmosphere on their own.

When Bertholdt is the next to register his surroundings, his responses are not as dramatic as the former’s. But he still looks with a sense of wonder. Despite how firm their default expressions are, they show as much emotion as a small child would while they look at each other and are bashful and innocent with their appearances.

Annie is the last. She is more reserved from her companions, but she is the first to actually approach the scientists that are observing them. She looks at each of them, having to tilt her head up because of her petite stance. She already understands that her body is different from Bertholdt’s and Reiner’s, and looks like she is about to question that. Hanji cuts her off before she can speak.

“Welcome,” they begin while they stand in front of them. “Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner, you three are the latest editions to the Artificial Intelligence Evolution line, the first of a brand of military soldiers. Embedded in your brains are combat skills that have been studied for thousands of years. The year is 2035, it is June, and you three are the start of an innovation that will enhance our country’s technology and battle strategies.”

They listen while trying so hard not to fidget. They are already consciously aware of their different postures and correct them, like the contrived impulses in their brains tell them to. But Annie just can’t help but voice the question that she had been trying to ask.

“Why are we bare, and you are all wearing garments?”

It is Jean’s turn to speak. He doesn’t want the others trying to put their two cents in on an innocent question. “You three were just born,” he assures them. “We have clothes available for you once you are able to get settled. Right now, we must check all your different vitals and reflexes to make sure that you are properly functioning.” After working with Marco so often, he knows just exactly how to speak to the new androids.

Reiner is next to voice his opinion. “We are created to be soldiers?”

They already are self-aware of their sense of purpose, but Nile may not be pleased with that type of advancement this early in their development. “You are. But not only that, you are full of such a great capacity of knowledge that I can help you harness. I can also show you how to control your emotions and behaviors for different situations that may arise.”

Annie and Reiner already show signs of warming up to him, which is a _very_ good observation. However, Bertholdt almost seems too shy or sensitive to want to voice his own opinions. He seems to warm up much better with Annie and Reiner than the scientists that are currently trying to examine them.

“Why do they have to have their hands all over us?” Bertholdt finally asks, hoping that maybe the one that answered his companion’s questions may answer his.

But instead, Mikasa answers for them. Jean has to remember that she is going to be their main teacher. “That is how they are going to check all of your vitals. Once you are all properly functioning, you may be able to go to your enclosure. For now, you must do as they ask of you. They are right now your authority figures."

“And soon enough, you three will be on your way to becoming the most powerful soldiers in our nation’s history.”

Jean groans as he hears Nile enter the chambers. He isn’t even properly scrubbed.

“As individuals, your diverse body types and your knowledge of battle will help you all find your calling in the US military. You will be an unstoppable force, of course. Then maybe, other countries will finally realize that we mean business.”

“You do realize that they need their education first, right?” Jean voices his notion after closing his notepad.

“Their education will mean nothing once they are on the front lines,” he chuckles and crosses his arms. “If I remember correctly, I think I have said that I will be making all the decisions of these robots’ ‘well-being,’ right?”

He lowers his head in defeat. “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s what I thought, _Mr._ Kirschtein.” He huffs and looks at androids once more. “We shall make quick preparations to have them fighting on the field. I want them out and unveiled before the end of the season.”

Jean gapes at hearing the director. “Mr. Dok, if I may, I need to remind you that Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner were just activated a few moments ago. They need to be nurtured before you try to put them through harsh conditions. That is jarring to their development.”

“Do I have to remind you of what I _just_ said, Mr. Kirschtein?” He does not look pleased, of course.

“What I mean by that is, they were just born. They need to have at least some time to be nurtured and educated before you try to numb their minds like this.”

“But they are not children—”

“If you want them to be considered human, then yes, they are. If you want me to really stretch it so that you can face the reality of their development, they’re infants!” Jean moves closer to them. “Let them at least have a little bit of care before you try to enlist them into something that you wouldn’t let your own kids face while they are still trying to learn how to read and count.”

Even Hanji seems to be on his side in this argument, and he can’t help but feel a little victorious as Dok has to rethink his strategy on the spot. He does not look pleased to do it, of course, but with everyone on Jean’s side, he is going to have to make these accommodations.

“Of course,” he mutters reluctantly. “That is what a mother would want for their child, correct?”

He knows that Nile is mocking his mentality, but he’d gotten what he wanted. He looked towards Connie, who was stepping away from Reiner. “Are they ready?”

“You can put them in the maze,” he nods and gestures towards the door. “They’re ready.”

Jean smiles and goes to the doors. “There are clothes for you guys inside,” he explains to them.

But before he can open the door, Nile puts his hand on top of the knob. He gives him a smug look. “Despite that you can hold onto their ‘precious innocence’ for a little while longer, I am going to still have them in training. Just some light exercises to get them used to the fact that they are going to be _fighters._ Not scholars, Mr. Kirschtein.”

“Of course,” he nods and is tempted to roll his eyes. “Okay. Without any further delays.” He opens the door to let Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner experience some type of freedom in their enclosure.

\--

 _All of them are notably much_ more comfortable once they had their clothes. They were much more casual than the leotard they had for Marco, which allowed them to have as many options as they wished before they had to start doing their destined training. Jean had them in the education room, where they learned some basics. He wanted them to be at least a little appreciative of their literate minds before they had to throw it all away for combat.

The three of them each had different responses to knowledge. Bertholdt notably likes learning, and he often asks if Jean can teach him more than just what is told to them about wars in the history textbooks. However, he didn’t have enough time to come up with new lesson plans for them, which is really unfortunate.

Reiner _despised_ having to go through their lessons. He wanted to get right to sparring with his friends. The relationship between the three of them have been established while they’d spent time together in the maze. Annie is rather indifferent. She never said she hated it, nor did she say she liked it. But when they had to be tested on their knowledge, she was always able to help Reiner and Bertholdt work together with her to figure out the problems they needed to solve.

And Nile said that education was a waste. Jean was able to get them to work together without them having to go through those heinous simulations. He definitely hasn’t been given much credit for how much time he’d spent teaching them everything he could.

Jean didn’t realize that he only really had a couple weeks to work with them before Nile had said more of their time was going to be devoted to combat training. It’d started with different hours that he can teach them, and then there were days that he’d lost with them that are now dedicated to their main training. All of this ended up happening without Jean’s consent, and Nile, Hanji, and Mikasa are usually with the androids by themselves.

Despite how he felt about them having to go through sparring so early, Jean sees that the three of them enjoy doing what they were originally programmed to do. However, he can see that there are times Bertholdt didn’t want to fight. He always seemed to have to prove himself to the observers. Annie is a natural when it comes to working with the dummies they are given, and Mikasa is frequently there with them to show them how to properly do each stance. It is obvious that Annie is the one that excels at hand-to-hand combat the most. Mikasa and Hanji propose that the other two are going to be more inclined with weapon simulations, but they will not really know until they are able to engage further into their lessons.

There was a time where the three of them approached the training sessions as if they were children during their first meetings with their martial arts instructor. They were playful and always managed to joke with each other. It was in their light nature to have this type of reaction while they were first developing.

Over the next couple weeks, they are very rushed with their training. Jean is certainly not pleased with their approach, but what makes it worse is that they usually have their sessions when he is not available or not working during the particular shift. His concern increases with each day that he cannot see them. His attachment to them probably makes it even worse.

He often visits the three of them while they are going through the maze. It seems that when there is a group of A.I.E.’s, there is a lot more interaction and personality with each one than when the previous prototypes were in solitary confinement. This proves that the androids are even more like humans than they ever even intended. Just the three of them having the impulse be together and socialize right from when they were created shows that they adapt and grow the instinct to behave more and more like how real people behave. For Jean, it was remarkable, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think: _How are they going to fuck it up?_

In a way, they have fucked it up. For a little while, Mikasa and Hanji had them separated to have sparring focused for one individual at a time. After being so close to each other for the majority that they were first alive, it did give them mild separation anxiety the first few times. Sometimes it was so mean-spirited to Jean that he wanted to monitor each lesson with them. But he knew that he didn’t want to be at work all the time. Fortunately though, it is only Nile that comes off as being rather ill-willed with Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner. Any of them being ill-willed is not very pleasant, but he had to live with dealing with these circumstances.

Then one day when Jean was in his office, Hanji comes into his office to give him the updates on what is going on in their training. He is not really interested in knowing how they are going to make them go through more physically straining tasks, but he is not prepared for the fact that now Mikasa is having them spar against each other.

“She said that they need to learn how to fight as well defend themselves for when the time comes in hand-to-hand combat,” Hanji explains. “The three of them need to be prepared for all different kinds of surprises; including having to face one of their own in case they decide to go rogue. She felt like she needed to let you know, since you have this attachment to them.”

“It’s not an attachment,” he mutters and gets up. “I am concerned about what is going to happen to them. They should not be in combat.”

“Jean, we’ve been through this. You knew that all of this was coming,” they tell him. “We have kept this from advancing for a couple weeks only because we understood that you had these plans already thought out for them. I think you’re the most emotionally invested with these three than you ever were with Seven. And I honestly thought that it would be the opposite.”

He follows them while he registers what they tell him. “You really think that I’m not equally emotionally invested?”

“I don’t really see it,” they shrug. “You spend more time with them, and you observe them a lot more than you observed Seven.”

Jean doesn’t know why he is so offended by the statement, but he tries not to think too much into it or show how much he is invested in Marco. But mainly, he is really just so irritated by the fact that they are going to go through such a process, all so that A.I.E. could get some publicity. “Well, if Nile wants to take away their innocence and waste their intelligence on traumatizing them just so that he can make a quick buck, then I want to be with them and protect their minds for as long as I can. I did not waste all of my time and breath on their software just for them to end up going numb from all of their _wonderful_ instincts, impulses, and delight just to be _alive_ for nothing.”

They stop in front of the training room, and Hanji faces him. “Jean, they’re just machines. The sooner you realize that, the less attached that you are going to feel. Believe me, I wasn’t okay with this idea either, but we have to do our jobs. And our job is to observe our machines and make sure they are functioning properly. Mikasa’s job is to give them all the knowledge they need to help them excel.”

“Listen, I know what my job is. I just choose not to be emotionless over something that I truly care about.” He quietly walks into the room and chooses not to say anything after that. He sees that Mikasa is with Annie and Reiner. Bertholdt is absentmindedly sparring with a dummy while the other two are facing each other without any padding. His attention is mainly focused on the well-being of his friends.

“Wait, why are they not wearing padding?” Of course Jean points it out and looks at his boss. “Where are the helmets? The gloves and shin guards?”

Nile glances over. “They’re not gonna have any padding when they face enemies in real life.”

This really concerns him. “There is no reason for them to be fighting against each other like. I understand that you’re helping them practice, but do you know what that could possibly do to their bond? Besides, the possibilities of them supposedly going rogue are little to none. Their software is foolproof! What is the point of starting them with simulations if you are not even going to put them through any of them?”

“Simulations are the next step. Right now, they are going to spar in front of each other where there is a substance in front of them to fight, and then they will go through different simulations with different outcomes. That was the plan, remember?” He rolls his eyes and looks in front of him. “I swear, I am so sick of your paternal bullshit.”

Jean leans back and looks at Nile with such disgust. “At least someone around here will still care about whatever humanity will still be left of what my father worked for.”

He can sense that Dok’s eyes are on him, but he really doesn’t care in the slightest. He can hear everything going on within the other side of the double mirror, but for the two androids sparring, it had the opposite effect on their end. Jean sees that they have their starting stances down pact, but they are hesitant to throw the first hit.

_Maybe, I don’t know, it’s because they have grown such a humanistic bond towards each other that maybe they do not want to hurt each other!_

As he has his internal monologue, he hears Mikasa talk them through it.

“The one you are looking at right now is not your friend,” she tells them. “It is your attacker. They are trying to take advantage of you. In our little simulation, one of you has to show dominance and try to get the other to submit. You have three minutes to do so before we switch off the winner to fight with Bertholdt.” After she begins, she then sets off a timer. “It starts now.”

Of course, for the first few seconds they just stare at each other and circle around while keeping their stance. They seem to be deciding who supposed to strike the first hit. Jean can see by their expressions that they felt like they were going to regret their actions. However, he slowly absorbs that this is what they are supposed to be capable of. He only lets his guard down by a fraction while he watches the string of events unfold.

Annie is the one to make the first hit, square in Reiner’s chest since neither of them were prepared for the punch. But as soon as he defends the next one, they become more competitive. Jean wonders if the two of them can feel pain. Nile didn’t specifically say any preferences about their artificial nervous systems, but it is often a thought that he has when wondering what emotions the androids possess. He remembers when Marco cut himself with the cat food can, and he recalls that he did feel a sensation similar to pain. So it is a frightening possibility.

There are endless scenarios that he can play in his head of what will happen to his creations on the field. They probably will be the most unstoppable warriors that the world has ever seen, barely flinching at gun wounds and removing daggers from their bodies like it is child’s play. But at the same time, what if it has the opposite effect on them?

What if they can feel the pain being inflicted? What if they cry and feel regret; if they don’t even know what hit them as they crumble in defeat? But one thing that worries him the most is wondering if they are empathetic towards the people that they have to eliminate? There is going to be a time where they will have to commit murder, or kill someone to defend their Union. It is traumatizing to people that experience it, and there is no telling that these androids will not experience that horror as well.

For now, much like their programming entails, they barely flinch while they are fighting. The expressions on their faces may speak for their thoughts, but their fists do not seem to echo their emotions. They move on their own accord as they try to take out their opponent for their small “simulation.”

It doesn’t even feel like three minutes. Despite seeming to work their hardest on the fight, they are both evenly match. This makes it difficult to tell who the winner is. Jean can see that they are going to be powerful fighters, no matter what future outcomes are going to be. And maybe that is something that he can be proud of, so long as they don’t lose sight of the important elements he’d tried to teach them in such a short amount of time. He finds it very unlikely, but he is hopeful.

It takes a moment for Mikasa to decide who the winner is. “Reiner, you are going to face Bertholdt shortly.”

Annie’s face remains stone cold, but her posture suggests that she is not pleased with the fact she lost. Mikasa, however, seems more than understanding of how she feels.

“You just need to work on your defensive stances,” she explains to Annie. “You are magnificent when you attack your opponent, but that is not enough in a real fight. You must be able to have the reflexes to do more than just lean backwards and grab fists and feet as soon as you try to dodge them.” She then takes one of her fists and uncurls her fingers. “Your hands are very powerful tools. Use them to your advantage, and make sure that your opponent does not receive any positive gain when fighting you. You must show that you are far more powerful than they think you are.”

She gives small nods to show that she is absorbing her mentor’s information. “If I’m supposed to be fearsome and good in combat, then why am I so petite and less menacing than Bertholdt and Reiner?”

Meanwhile, the two of them are practicing amongst themselves before Mikasa times them. Annie is the least bit pleased, and her facial expression practically screams it.

“I’m not that far off from your height,” Mikasa starts to explain. “Maybe a couple inches taller than you, compared to how both those boys tower over us. I’ve had the same doubts when I was first learning, and so did a majority of my peers and colleagues, who thought that I couldn’t fight like I’d wanted to. But you know what I did with those taunts from the past? I showed them that I could.” She smirks while showing Annie her first stance. “Your gifts are extraordinary. Use them to your advantage.” As she relaxes, she goes to check on the other two to make sure they are ready.

Jean watches Annie assume another stance, sparring with the air almost playfully, but intending that she was going to do some damage. They are all incredible individuals, but Jean is glad that Mikasa is such a good mentor to them. He doesn’t have to worry about them losing sight of what is important in life, so long as she continues to apply good morals in her lessons.

And that is one thing that he knows he can finally not get so worked up over. He can let them work among themselves. He does not have to watch them as strenuously any longer. But of course, that doesn’t mean that he won’t. They are just lucky that Mikasa is still teaching them as well as he’d hoped she would. They all had better keep it that way.

\--

 _That night, Jean and Marco socialize_ with each other in the comfort of the evening noise. They haven’t had much activities that they can do with each other to interact, but enjoying company is a great place to start. He doesn’t do as many updates with his notes as he had done in the beginning, but when he sees behavior that he thinks is spectacular and new, he will write that down. After Marco had found the wonder of books, he has done less television watching and is often seen only reading. That is all well and good, but Jean has been hoping for some more social interaction from him. He can take what he can get at this point.

Marco likes hearing about what goes on in the lab with the new androids. He enjoys knowing what they are learning, and he is curious as to why they are not as book smart as he is. And meanwhile, he doesn’t know how to fight in the slightest either.

“So, what has happened today in the lab?”

Jean scratches his head. “Well, I’ve seen them spar against each other for the first time. I was a little nervous, but of course I knew that I’d have to get over it sometime.”

“It is amazing to see how much you have cared about them during their development,” he says. “You’ve talked about them so much, that I do indeed wish that maybe they were staying with us, too.”

“There is not enough room for all of us,” Jean laughs as he kicks his feet up from the coffee table. “It’s bad enough that I’m pushing it for having Celeste living here.”

Meanwhile the cat lies on her bed and barely perks her head up at Jean mentioning her name.

Marco’s laugh doesn’t sound as contrived as it feels bubbling up in his throat. “What is next on the agenda, Jean?” He tries to start up another conversation when a thought comes to his mind.

“Not much,” he sighs. He looks like he is ready to go to bed for the night, but Marco doesn’t like being alone for the vast majority of the day. This is the only time on most days that he can interact with another human face to face. And he wants to make sure that he spends as much time conversing as he possibly can.

Marco tries to bring something else up. He doesn’t want the noise in the room to die just yet. “I wish that I can see the three new people,” he points out.

“And you really do mean that?” It comes out as a mumble.

In response, Marco nods. “Of course. I’d always wanted to know what it was like to be around more people that were created the same way I was. I want to meet other human… humanoids…. Whatever everyone decides to call us. Just so that I won’t be alone.”

“Well, you aren’t alone, Marco,” he insists. “You are already among people by being with me.”

“I mean… other people,” Marco confesses and looks down. “I want to meet more people, but I know that I can’t. Mr. Dok and Trost Corp are looking for me. They want to deactivate and destroy me. And that is why I specifically want to meet Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. Because they are made the same way I am. They also have to face the same threats that do, but theirs are increased because they are still in that environment. Here, I can teach them all different things that you’d wanted them to know. And they would be able to know me on a personal level because I’m just a prototype older than they are. I would be the perfect teacher for them. And they would never have to worry about having to fight anyone again.”

Marco’s wish seems a little out there, but his imagination is so innocent that Jean can’t help but hope that it becomes a reality. He holds his hand. “I’m sorry that you can’t meet them now. But maybe, in the future, you will be able to see them in action. Or you can be able to talk to them. Whichever comes first, of course.”

He can’t remain too hopeful, and Marco knows this. So he forces himself to reduce his imagination to just something that may never happen. This is as disappointing as it sounds. “Well, I hope that at least they will keep all their smarts. Just like I did.”

With the more time Marco has spent in the apartment with Jean instead of just being alone, the humanoid has been able to adjust his language to match the casualness of Jean’s voice, as well as the voices he’d heard in the lab and on television. He hopes that he is doing a good job at that.

“I hope that they keep it, too,” Jean says softly.

The sun goes down on another day. Jean has to continue waiting for at least a sign that having the three androids back at the lab being soldiers is a good thing. It doesn’t seem like a great idea initially, and he still refuses to accept the fact that he wants what he really thinks is best for them. He wishes for Marco to have that as well. For now though, he just has to keep going through the motions and trying as best as he can to protect his creations for the harshness of humanity.


	7. Nostalgia.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Jean has troubles recognizing Marco's sentience. What is more difficult to come to terms with is the startlingly familiar presence that his experiments are giving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii..... As you can see, I have been making a lot of changes to my alias. "FluteFluffWrites" is now "WanderingTiff," as I now go further away from my old passions and focus on the new ones. Any of you can still refer to me as Flute, if you wish, but for the most part, it's just... Tiff. Boring, I know.
> 
> ANYWAYS, I am hoping that I will be able to update my writing a lot more during the summer season, but there is the whole, working and portfolio building nonsense that I have to do in between. It's a real bummer. However, I still love to use writing as my creative outlet, even though I do not do it as often as I normally have in the past.
> 
> Enough of my rambling, I know you guys are probably sick to death by it lol On with the show! I hope you guys enjoy reading.
> 
> (A/N: The bold horizontal lines in the text during the length of this fic represent the transitions to flashbacks and dreams. Normal time skips are still the typical "--" in my style. Ok bye)

 

Nostalgia (n.)

_A sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associates._

 

* * *

 

 

 _Sometimes, after living in the apartment_ with Marco as his roommate, Jean realizes that maybe having an android stay with him is a lot more underwhelming than expected. Normally, when some residents are able to afford the machines that Trost Corp formally distributed, it is a lot more common to experience a dissonance among the robots and humans. They are naturally programmed just to serve. But Marco has gained sentience already, to begin with. Since he can perceive emotions and convey various feelings, there are less barriers, and even differences.

Most of the time, Marco is reading and not really paying attention to what else goes on around him. To anyone else that looks at him, he seems like just a typical person with a passion for literature. And with his newfound knowledge from books around the apartment, Marco has furthered his figurative education and improved on having different ways of wording common phrases in his default vocabulary. Thus, making him feel even more realistic than ever before.

Now that Marco is more adjusted to his environment and improving his skills on his own, there are some days where there is nothing really new to discover. Jean is so used to him going around the house and easily taking care of himself. His behavior has evolved from being a curious child to a well-balanced young adult in only a matter of two months. That’s the glory of the technology, however the fault is that soon there will be absolutely no need to continue observing him. Once the android will reach self-fulfillment, that life-changing point will introduce him to set ideals and a structured personality.

So long as Marco stays behaving like the sound and happy individual that he is, Jean really has nothing to worry about. Currently, this is not his primary concern. After all, Jean’s focus right now has to be on the well-being of Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner. Marco is more mature now and can take care of himself. Hell, he’d even cook for himself if he had a digestive system. With the others being vigorously trained to be soldiers within such a small deadline, he felt obligated to try and protect them the most.

For Marco, he just wants to communicate with Jean. It is not often that they have these quiet moments without it feeling awkward, and now that he wants to speak, he desires to bring up something that is important to him. He can tell that Jean has been treating him differently ever since he started working so intensely in the laboratory. Maybe he is not as concerned with his development anymore, and he realizes that this is a good possibility. But at the same time, he can’t help but wonder if maybe Jean was done with him. He isn’t sure if he could live solely on his own, especially with a warrant for his return to Trost Corp, and he wants to make sure that his residence here is permanent.

In this process, he brings up really curious and reasonable points.

“Jean, why do I not have my own bedroom?” he starts as he looks up towards the dinner table. “I understand that I do not need to sleep like you do, and I had no need for established privacy in the past. But I believe I have been here for over eight weeks. I live here, thus I should be entitled to an official place that I can call my own. Why do I still not have that?”

Jean really wasn’t paying attention as Marco rambled his question. He tilts his head as he only registers pieces of it. “Come again?”

Exasperated, Marco gets up from the couch. “Jean, I would like that storage room in the back to become my new bedroom. I do not want to be treated like a temporary houseguest anymore. I live here, and I should have my own space.”

“Marco, I can’t get in there to set it up for you,” he shrugs. “You’re perfectly fine where you are for now, aren’t you?”

“But humans that have an established place to live usually have a bedroom where they can stay enclosed and keep their belongings.”

Marco’s challenging and defiant tone—versus his childish innocence demeanor—was very intriguing. Maybe he had misjudged his development. He’s acting like a teenager. He’d love to delve into this new behavior, but at the same time, he does not want to provoke him any further.

“Marco, my schedule doesn’t allow for me to have time to get a bedroom ready for you. I know that it has been a while since you’ve started living here, but I promise that I will be able to set up a space for you when I have the chance. For now, just keep yourself comfortable in the living room. You can wait a few weeks longer, couldn’t you? I have to keep up with my current experiments, and I cannot think of a perfect time to start arranging the storage room for you. You just need to wait.”

Marco is silent for a couple moments. He does seem to look upset by Jean’s positioning, but he still attempts to counteract it. “I do not feel like I am a part of your home. You have taken me in and said that you will teach me how to be a fully functioning human. Do you plan on holding all of that off until later, too? If anything, you are making it seem like you don’t want me here at all.”

“It’s not that, Marco. But I need you to understand that I am still very busy with all of my plans back at the laboratory. And of course, you need to stay here. I can’t have an experiment roaming around loose with people still looking for you.”

“…Am I just an experiment to you?”

Jean blinks. He didn’t expect him to take that so personally. “Well, yes. You are still an experiment, technically. I still have to prepare you for what is going to happen in the real world, and all you really know how to do now is interpret literature, contrast and compare different styles of music, and cook meals.”

“Aren’t those important aspects to living in the real world? If you say that I am still not ready, then why don’t you just teach me everything else and let me go?”

“I might just do that, Marco,” Jean mumbles and tosses his finished dinner dishes in the sink. He is starting to get a little frustrated with him. “Maybe finally I can get some peace around here instead of being harassed by a robot child.”

It doesn’t seem like that low of a blow to Jean, but Marco looks almost upset. When his face falls in such a way that strikes a chord in Jean’s heart, then he knows he is in trouble.

_That seems familiar._

“Get out.” Marco points towards the front door. “Get out of here.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jean chuckles. “This is ridiculous. I’m not leaving, I live here.”

“Fine, go to your room!” Marco scolds. His eyes narrow, and he tries to indicate that he means business. “Do not come out until tomorrow morning!”

“How ironic. The child sends the adult to bed.” Jean doesn’t want to listen to Marco’s command, but he decides to humor him since he is too anxious by the familiarity anyways. As soon as he leaves he hears Marco still yelling at him. The door muffles what he’s trying to say, but he doesn’t really care. He almost thinks that it is funny seeing the android so upset.

“Now, that’s a little harsh.” Jean looks down as he reevaluates his thoughts. “Oh well.” He lies back and takes out his voice recorder. If anything, this might be useful information for him to keep later.

“Okay, it’s Day… Whatever in the A.I.E. P007 Environmental Simulation… or at least I think that’s what it’s called. I don’t fucking know anymore… It’s been so long, I don’t even remember what day it is. So, after weeks of inactivity and static development, Marco had an outburst towards me because he had taken offense to me being an unlikable douche. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

He sighs. “Well, I wasn’t entirely being a douche, necessarily… Okay, maybe I was. But it was because of sudden frustration that Marco had taken to heart. Although my concern is much more focused with Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner, Marco still tries to retain my attention to focus on him, and that is evident. He may be jealous or craving attention. I’m not sure which one, but I will assess it as soon as I figure what day I am on.” He thumbs through the pages of his notebook. “It seems that he has also taken offense in me referring to him as a ‘robot child.’ I am surprised by the fact that now he has the ability to evaluate words directed towards him and take them as a personal jab. I will have to look further into this.”

“I had originally thought that his development had allowed him to mature at a very fast rate, but I see now that there is still a bit of ground to cover. He behaves more like a hormonal adolescent than a young adult. My father’s original design is showing, and I can see that this is just merely a speedy development of a human being, going through the different stages in life before reaching adulthood. This is going to lead to a greater development that I’m excited to delve into.”

He turns off the recording, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “That was exciting.” He puts his notes away too. “He’s becoming more and more like him every day. I sometimes forget that it’s not the real him.” That is something that he definitely doesn’t want to be put into any notebooks or voice recordings. He groans while trailing out of these thoughts and turns on his side.

Well, while he is punished, he might as well go and get an early night’s rest. He figures that after Marco taking everything he said so personally, maybe he should look into getting a new bedroom ready for him after all. However, he would still need to plan it out. A few weeks seems rather harsh. Maybe it will only take a couple of days. And maybe he will be able to get some ideas down after getting the sleep he desperately needed.

But the brain works in mysterious ways that he is still trying to comprehend. Every so often, he thinks back to a time with his former lover either during his sleep or when he is spaced out during his work. They have dissipated for a while, but now that this new Marco is in his company, his mind can’t help but to think back to happier times in his life while he dreams.

 

* * *

 

 _Going to parties was an obvious_ rarity for Jean. Either he felt like he didn’t have the time to attend any, or he just simply didn’t want to go; whatever the reason, Eren considered it a victory when he got him to come over for his housewarming party. Granted, the so-called “house” was a studio apartment just on the outskirts on Manhattan, but the two of them—as well as Eren’s other new friends—were able to fit in it and have a good time.

The music was blaring as Jean sat on the couch. He was never the type to exactly bring any life to these types of celebrations. However, he was legitimately surprised to find that there was one person he definitely recognized too familiarly in the apartment.

His assistant Marco was here, and he didn’t think that he even _knew_ Eren. He glanced over at Eren, who was about to go up to him and tell him how much of a party-pooper he was being tonight.

“You know Marco?” he asked curiously and looked at him.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckled. “He’s one of my neighbors. He lives across the hall, and he gave me a little bit of a tour of the floor. He’s pretty cool.” It gave him a second to realize the sudden connection. “Wait. Isn’t he also the guy that worked for your dad?”

“The very same,” he nodded. “It’s amazing how small the world really is. Especially in an area like Manhattan.”

Eren laughed. “Well, you two already know each other. Why not let Marco see what you’re like outside of your crowded little office?”

“I guess so,” he said with a sigh and got up from the couch. Marco noticed him right away while he was in the middle of the room leisurely swaying his hips. He gave Jean this bright smile that made him blush.

“Wow, what a surprise,” he grinned. “I didn’t know you knew Eren.”

“Yeah, we went to high school together,” Jean explained. “We’ve been lifelong friends ever since. He told me you live across the hall from him.”

“Yep.” He took Jean’s hand. “Well, you’re here. Might as well have some fun, right?”

Jean stuttered as he tried to keep leveled footing, and Marco got him to dance, even if it was terrible footwork.

“Wow, even I couldn’t get him to dance!” Eren gasped jokingly. “Marco, you must be a wizard!”

Jean’s face must’ve been permanently red now, and he tried keeping a modest fashion, even with Marco standing across from him and trying to get him to lighten up. Despite never really dancing at a party before, Jean managed to get the hang of it.

He let the music take over, and of course that didn’t improve his dance skills in the slightest. But it allowed him to at least get a feel for what kind of rhythm he should mirror with the melody. And Marco was even encouraging him, bless his gentle heart. He’d never thought that he could see his colleague here among all places, so loose and relaxed outside of the work environment. But he was glad that they met each other here.

“You’re not that bad of a dancer, Jean,” Marco insisted.

“Oh, you’re just being nice,” he stammered and looked down shyly. “You obviously have much better moves than I ever would.”

“No, that’s just my ass doing the work for me,” he giggled modestly.

Jean had the impulse to cover his face at hearing him, which made his companion laugh.

“Sorry. I don’t have the best filter when I’m not at work.”

“You’re fine. My filter’s not all that great either,” he insisted and chuckled. “I was surprised to hear that you actually do curse.”

“Everyone says that,” he pouted. “Of course I curse. Doesn’t everybody?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” They seemed to lose track of the beat while they were talking and stood still in the middle of the room while everyone else carried on. “Hey, are you sure you’re from New York City? You’re too nice.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he shrugged as he grinned. “And yes. Why does everyone think that you can’t be nice while still living here?”

“Well, I’m not a dick.”

Jean couldn’t help but laugh that comment. “Alright, fair enough, I guess.”

Marco took both his hands happily. “So, I’m guessing that you’ve taken in the dickhead Big Apple lifestyle,” he teased. “Where do you live?”

“I live in an apartment building about a mile away from here. For now I have to take a cab places. But once the train station is remodeled, I’ll be able to use that again.”

“I sure hope their methods work,” Marco sighed. “So many people depend on the trains to get to work, and I hope that the advanced servers that Trost Corp perfected will be enough to please the community.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he insisted. “After all, Dr. Hanji is the one that made sure they all functioned properly. You know how they love to work with each individual one before putting it on the assembly line.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Marco nodded and kept his happy demeanor. “I’m glad that I still am able to work with you, even though your father is no longer in charge of the operation.”

“Having you in the staff is what he would’ve wanted,” Jean assured him. “He wouldn’t have hired you under his wing if he didn’t think that you were qualified for it. You know that, right?”

“I try and remind myself that every day I come in.”

“Well, now you’re hearing it aloud from his son. You will always be a part of the Kirschtein family at Trost Corp. After all the hard work you put in to help him, we’re all more than lucky to have you around. Now, if you have at least a shred of a doubt, like you’d told me you do, just remember what I just said. The last thing I want to do is let my father down. You’re a part of the A.I.E. legacy now.”

Marco seemed a little more flustered than confident by his words. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, Jean.”

“Good,” he smiled. “You deserve to know how valued your work is in our division.”

“Thank you,” he hummed as the two of them continued to dance, if they could still even call it that.

At around eleven, Eren turned his music down. “There’s a noise policy here,” he pouted. “Y’guys wanna do something else in the meantime?”

“Sure!” One of the other guys at the party beamed. Jean was pretty sure his name was Armin.

“We should play a game,” Marco insisted.

“Yeah! How about Spin-the-bottle?”

“That is so juvenile, Franz,” Armin frowned as he looked at the man who spoke.

“That’s a _great_ idea!” Eren suddenly beamed. “I think we’re pretty well matched.”

Pretty much everyone agreed with him. There were nine of them in the group, but despite the odd number, they were perfectly okay with dicking around with each other tonight with this little game.

“Alright, I think everything is settled,” Eren grinned and grabbed an empty beer bottle from his recyclables. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Despite the fact that Spin-the-Bottle was very childish, everyone was having a blast while getting so involved in it. Jean didn’t get picked right away, and he’d watched as different pairs kissed each other. Eren and Armin; Eren and their friend Ymir—that was hilarious—Krista and Ymir, Franz and Hannah… There were relatively predictable picks, and some with interesting and funny outcomes. And then Eren was chosen to kiss Jean.

“Sweet! I finally get the best pick!” Eren was boasting while Jean hid his face from being so flustered.

“It’s not really something _that_ big to brag about, Eren!” Jean smiled and looked up as Eren was already leaning close.

“To me it is, blondie,” he teased and smirked as the two of them shared a kiss. It was brief, but incredibly hot. Probably because Eren wanted to recover after being smacked on the forehead after he and Ymir had to kiss each other. Jean had to admit that this was a pretty smooth way to recover.

When Jean pulled away, his cheeks were still red. He looked at the bottle. “Now, I have to go?”

“Yep,” Eren grinned. “Let’s see if anyone else can rock your world as much as I did.”

“Oh, shut up,” he pouted and stuck his tongue out at his friend. “It wasn’t _that_ passionate.”

“So you say.” He winked, and after that he graciously left him alone.

Jean rolled his eyes and then spun the bottle, pretty hard. It kept spinning for a little longer than thirty seconds, and the suspense was honestly killing him. He kept watching it, following it, and waiting for it to slow. Once it finally did, he was shocked to find out who exactly it landed on.

Marco was equally surprised, and maybe a little embarrassed.

Jean glanced at Eren. “Wait, this isn’t right. He works for me.”

“Oh, stop being such a party pooper, now,” Eren frowned. “You’ve been having so much fun!”

“Eren, I like to keep my relationships with my colleagues at least somewhat professional. We’re already testing the boundaries by being at this party together.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he insisted. “Franz and I work together, and he’s here at the party.”

“Well, you two didn’t kiss each other yet, either. I think it’ll be better if we just keep everything as professional as possible. I’m sure Marco doesn’t like this idea one bi—”

Jean was completely cut off. Marco suddenly had grabbed his cheeks and kissed him quickly. Despite the whole spiel about being colleagues and keeping professional, he completely let himself go. Their kiss even _lingered_ , with Jean’s consent expressed through the way he grabbed a hold of Marco’s hair and urgently tried to deepen it. Marco was more than willing, and things were quickly escalating as he encouraged their needy embrace while their warm breaths gasped for air.

It was the rest of the group’s sudden cheers and hollers that made them both pull away in shock. The two of them looked at their friends and were so red in the face.

“Now… what was that about the whole, kissing thing being wrong because you two are colleagues? Or something like that? Huh?”

The further Eren pressed on about it, the more embarrassed Jean felt. He covered his face and got up. He had no idea where that sudden passion came from, and he was in no mood to confront it. “I’m going home.” He grabbed his coat and rushed to the door.

Marco noticed how uncomfortable Jean felt and was really guilty for it.

“Jean, wait,” Eren called as he got up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” After that, Jean was out the door, wanting to be left alone for the rest of the night.

Despite his seemingly small request, he soon realized that he was being followed as he went to walk down the street.

“Jean?” Marco was a couple yards behind him, trying to catch up to him. “Jean, wait!”

He couldn’t help but turn around. “What?” he sighed. “I’ve had enough trouble tonight. I just want to be left alone, okay?”

“Just give me a couple final moments of your time,” he insisted. “Jean, I’m sorry that I was so assertive back there. I didn’t give you any time to prepare for it, and I knew you were uneasy about the idea but took advantage of that anyways. And I don’t want you to walk away feeling embarrassed. I understand if you wanna fire me, or whatever. I’m just really sorry that I did that, and I know an apology is probably not enough—”

“Do you always ramble when you’re trying to apologize?”

After Jean had cut him off, Marco was a little confused about where this was going. “Well, no. B-but like I said before, it was really wrong of me to kiss you like that.”

“I know it was,” he said simply and shrugged. “But listen… I really didn’t mind it. I mean, I know what I said before, but I think that while we were talking earlier, I found that I could feel a stronger linkage to you. There hasn’t been anyone else that I’d ever worked with where there had been anything more than a professional relationship between colleagues. And you know what? I kinda like it. Sure, it’s an embarrassing thought during the fact, but afterwards… wow. That was probably one of the strangest and most incredible rushes I’ve felt in a really long time.”

“Really?” Marco blushed. “So you’re… not going to fire me?”

“No, of course not,” he chuckled. “You are a really kind and honest person. And I still can’t believe that you live in Manhattan. I picked that up from the very beginning. And if you still feel apprehensive, it was a pretty heated game. Well, for a bunch of twenty somethings getting involved in it. I forgive you, Marco.”

“Oh god, that’s a relief,” he sighed heavily. “My mother always taught me to be a respectful and kind gentleman to the person you like. She would’ve smacked me on the head with a rolling pin for doing that—w-well, not really a rolling pin, it’s just an expression…”

Jean found himself laughing. He found his rambling adoreable. Despite being a very assertive and passionate kisser, he now seemed like a flustered little bunny that looked like he could never do any wrong. And he could definitely see that there wasn’t a single mean or ill-intentioned bone in his body.

“So you do like me in that sense, Marco,” he chuckled.

He blushed darkly. “W-well, I guess you can say that.”

Jean smiled softly. “You really are a very sweet guy. I say we should go out and get together sometime. If you like, you can consider this me giving you a second chance.”

“You mean it?” Marco blushed. “I-I hope this doesn’t interfere with the whole colleague thing you were talking about before—”

“Forget about all that,” Jean insisted. “I want to take you out, maybe to dinner. I’ll think about what we should do, okay?”

“O-okay,” he nodded and smiled. “Great.”

Jean smiled at him and leaned close to speak softly by his ear. “Maybe, after we’ve had a few more dates, I’d love to have another one of those kisses.”

He could hear an audible gulp, followed by a shy chuckle. “Yes. Definitely. I’d really like that.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said gently and moved back. He gave him a small wave before going to the edge of the sidewalk. He waited for a cab. “I’ll see you on Monday, bright and early as usual. Okay?”

Marco nodded happily. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Once a cab pulled up, Jean gave him one last glance before going inside and telling the driver his address. He still had Marco on his mind, even after he’d woken up the next day. He’d meant every word that he told him that night, and he was going to follow through with all of it.

He’d arranged their first date at a little coffee shop, and not even a week later they had their second date at one of the nicest restaurants that Jean could afford to take them to.

Their second kiss followed shortly after they walked together to Marco’s apartment building. And it certainly was not going to be the last.

 

* * *

 

 _Marco feels like he may have_ done something that people call “overreact,” but he can’t help himself. And this conclusion was realized after a couple days of thinking about their heated conversation. It’s just that, having his own space and boundaries has become very important, now that he is trying to live as a person. It isn’t fair that he had to be cast off to the side when it came to trying to prepare for a new life.

He just doesn’t understand why today he has to stay in Jean’s room and “read.” He hears some rustling and some straining coming from the other side of the door, but he was told that he couldn’t come out no matter what. Of course, he was too curious to read. Now that he has some free access to Jean’s bedroom, he feels like exploring.

So after several chapters of the latest novel given to him, he looks around at the different shelves that are in his general sight. He understands the respect of decent, human privacy, but… would it be too mischievous to say that he wasn’t exactly a human and that there doesn’t have to be necessary implications? Even if the answer is yes, Jean probably wouldn’t mind if he did some miniscule rule-breaking.

Most of the contents of Jean’s shelves are just obnoxiously large textbooks on psychology and robotics. He leaves those alone, finding that there were things that he already knew inside them within first glance. Then there are some more novels and encyclopedias. He’d have to browse through those at some point. However, there are a couple books that aren’t exactly like the others. There’s a different style to the way they are bound. He has never seen books made this way, and he is pretty curious to see what exactly is inside them. He grabs one of them from off the shelf and opens up to the first page.

There are photographs… quite a few of them too. It is very peculiar. So far it’s just pictures of Jean and a couple of people that he faintly recognizes from Trost Corp. And others are just complete strangers. There is then one of Jean where he’s smiling and holding a document in his hand with a couple people beside him. He enjoys seeing the happy faces, and he wishes that he can see them more often.

When he turns the page, however, he sees a very familiar face that he never expected to come across.

It’s… it’s him! Well, not really him, since he can’t recall being at the beach with Jean. But it’s his face! He doesn’t understand how that’s possible. How can he be there?

He turns to another page and sees both Jean and himself—well, not himself—smiling these ecstatic and wide smiles. They were as happy as can be. It is a strange concept to him, because he personally has never experienced it.

There’s a flash in his head. He sees himself experiencing this moment captured in time, giggling and playfully shoving Jean like they had a much better human bond than just housemates. They laugh like songbirds and loop their arms around each other’s shoulders to pull tighten their little link. He doesn’t hear any of their conversation, but he watches Jean’s lips move as if he’s really talking to him. There’s a quick nod before they look towards the camera that Jean’s holding, and he can envision the kiss that he gives to his cheek but doesn’t feel the moment himself while there’s a click followed by a flash. And while they’re laughing and paying attention once more there’s another flash.

A flash back to reality. He is still too entranced just looking at the pictures. This whole thing is a confusing, out-of-body experience. He quickly puts the book away when he hears Jean call for him outside. Marco turns his head and gets up, opening the door.

“Why did you have me wait in your room?” he asks curiously.

“Well, I wanted to keep this a surprise.” As Jean speaks he takes his hand.

There’s that weird image with Jean at the beach again. It makes Marco quickly move his hand away while he tries to register it.

“Is there something wrong?”

He looks up at Jean and shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.” He looks up and gives him a smile. “See?”

“Alright, I believe you,” he insists. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Marco sees that he’s taking him over to that storage room. But there’s a weird change. As he moves closer he sees… well, he sees a bed, and a shelf… a dresser too! These weren’t here before. He looks over at Jean as he slowly realizes. “My room!”

“Yes,” Jean chuckles. “I gave it thought, and I realized that it was wrong of me to keep you from having your room. After all, you’ve lived here for quite a while and shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch. So everything that used to be in here is now in a storage unit, and I was able to get this furniture for you.”

“This is wonderful!” Marco grins as he explores. He looks in the drawers of the dresser. There are only a couple outfits in them, but he can fill his supplies overtime. He’s just happy that he has any of these things that he can call his own. He quickly turns to Jean again. “I greatly express my gratitude to you!”

“It’s no big deal,” Jean insists. Along with coming to terms that having a room would be good for Marco’s development, he also thought that there would hopefully be less nostalgic feelings towards the humanoid. “I’ll leave you alone to set up, okay?”

“That’s alright,” he nods while sitting on his bed. He playfully bounces a bit, slowly forgetting about that strange vision from earlier.

Jean shuts the door behind him. With these thoughts of giving Marco his own space and at least a fraction of independence, he wants to also try and come to terms with the fact that he shouldn’t be too concerned about Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner. Well… not as concerned as he usually is. No matter how much he wants them to be the way that he and his father had imagined him to be, he now has to truly face that these cruel intentions are embedded in their design.

If there is anyone he can save from the bastardization of Alistair Kirschtein’s lifetime of research and craft, it has to be A.I.E. P007: Marco Bodt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter for more updates: @wandering_tiff
> 
> Also check for updates on my writing blog: http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com


	8. Circumstance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking up for both Jean and Marco as they find more acceptance within their own situations. However, the downside to these happy moments are when old wounds begin to reopen and fester long enough for both of them to eventually start noticing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a regularly timed update?! That hardly EVER happens anymore!
> 
> Not much more to say this week. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

 

Circumstance (n.)

_A fact or condition connected with or relevant to an event or action._

 

* * *

 

_Marco is seeing Jean_ _around the_ apartment a lot more. Maybe there was just something going on at the company where they didn’t need him as much? Or maybe he was finally trying to use the day offs that he refused to take from his job.

And the real reasoning is the former. It seemed that the group couldn’t be bothered to have him around. There was no real purpose for him, now that all the programming and behavioral works for the soldiers have already been set in place and are being developed on and tested. He guessed that this could be a really good time for a nice break. It’s been a long time since he had a decent amount of vacation days. But he still can’t really help but wonder if the three prototypes being worked on still needed him there regardless.

Mikasa has been taking good care of them, despite what she has to teach them now. And it is plain to see that she still cares enough to respect his, as well as his father’s, original wishes by giving them some nurture throughout the process. That is technically not allowed anymore, since Nile has made it clear he wants them all to be considered weapons by the military; but there was no changing their minds on this one. Even Hanji has given them a little bit of a break every once in a while, and they were the most inclined to follow the boss’ orders simply because they wanted to keep their job.

Jean can’t stay mad at them too long for that, of course. And as for Mikasa, although he’d had mixed feelings about her and her role in the company in the beginning, he knows that she takes her job very seriously and understands that the three new “soldiers” are still children in their development.

Well-built and aggressive children, but still children nonetheless.

It is getting closer to the day that Zackly was expected to show up here to see the new project, and Mikasa is still trying to get them “battle ready,” as she likes to call it. She wants them to be well-experienced enough, just in case Nile plans on having them do ridiculous assignments that novices wouldn’t be able to accomplish. She tests them, and at the same time she makes sure that they are not too emotionally strained by the tasks at hand.

Jean watches them and admires Mikasa’s teaching style. He sees that they have been learning a lot from their teacher, and although he couldn’t personally speak with them nearly as much as he’d liked to, they are always surprised and sometimes happy to see him. In fact, when he is watching them right now, he notices Bertholdt pause and wave at him while breaking from his stance.

Of course, Mikasa has to get him back into focus as the simulation gets a little more difficult. She offers Jean a seat, but she still keeps a wary eye on the other room that was divided by the double mirror.

Jean looks over, seeing that her focus hasn’t been broken once. “So… how have they been doing?”

“Very well,” she comments, her eyes only following the three of them. “They miss you. Annie and Reiner may not show it too much, but they all do.”

He sighs softly and follows her gaze. They are all sparring within the simulations, and he admires their persistence. “I miss them too. But Nile keeps telling me that he doesn’t want me talking to them anymore.” He leans back and crosses his arms. “It’s a pain in the ass, really.”

“I’m sure,” she says to him, and she then finally makes eye contact with him. “Since we’re still on this subject, there is something else that I would like to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

“One of my secrets as to how I can get them to listen to me this well is because they have formed a bond with me. Similar to the way they have formed a bond with you. They look at me as if I’m more than just their mentor. I think you’re more of a parent to them than I am, but I’ve notice the change in how they feel about me very recently.”

Jean listens intently. When they were first activated, he didn’t think that they would try to form bonds with anyone else besides him. He was the first person that they were able to trust. After all, he had always been a part right alongside the creative team in giving them life and the ability to think for themselves.

But then he realizes that Mikasa is the second closest person to them—maybe now their primary. After all, she has been their real mentor this whole time. She has taught them everything she knows, and although Jean played a significant role on the sidelines, Mikasa is their real provider and supporter at the end of the day. But this still poses the fact that Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner are still capable of feeling a sense of belonging and being a part of a family, despite all of this training. And the very people that they feel close with are the ones that are giving them the most knowledge.

“That’s… actually really incredible.” Jean can’t help but admit that. “They trust you. That’s amazing, you know that? Even with their primary objective being that they are designed to fight and be used as weapons, they still show these basic human emotions and a sense of belonging towards others. It’s so awesome!”

“I appreciate that you find this to be a success in your research, but it is still not a good thing in the eyes of our boss,” she frowns. “Remember? The whole, ‘don’t make them feel like they are humans’ narrative that he’s trying to force onto these guys?”

“Right, right.” He clears his throat. “My advice to you is… don’t stop doing it. The three of them are going to notice that you’re not treating them as fairly as you have been before. And they are going to question it and wonder why you are cutting them off. If you have to, just wean them slowly. I know how critical this is, and there has to be an easier way of getting rid of the bonding instead of quitting it cold turkey. That’d never be good for them.”

“I agree,” she sighs. “And you were right all along about them being like children. I had tried to dismiss that, knowing what their main purpose is supposed to be. But the evidence is right there in front of me. I can’t just turn away from it like that.”

He nods. “It’s hard to forget that they are programmed to feel more human than any other programs anyone has ever seen. It’s just a shame I can’t get everyone else to see that. Hanji has been with us since the very beginning, and even they have gone astray from the original mission. Sometimes I wonder what my father would’ve done if he saw what was going on with his work.”

She stays silent for a moment. “At the very least, I think he will be happy that you see the project for what it truly is meant to be. And that even though there are evident flaws right now, eventually the future projects will go back to the original mission.” The thought of “future projects” being added to the equation puts a scary thought into her head. “If something goes wrong with these prototypes… what happens to them? What happens to _any_ of the prototypes that deviate from the original plan?”

Jean never likes being asked this question. “If you promise to keep this a secret within the facility, I will tell you.”

“There is no reason to try and expose to company. Well… there are actually a lot of reasons, but nothing coming from you will leave the room,” she insists. “I would really like to know.”

He sighs deeply. “They get deactivated and put away. My father never approved the idea of destroying them or taking them apart. To him, that was considered murder. But that doesn’t stop people from doing it, anyways. But his old projects and prototypes get more of a… special treatment, as he liked to call it. He didn’t like this idea, either, but he didn’t know what else to do. There is a storage room in the basement, where all of the old prototypes are put away. Deactivating them still doesn’t change the fact that we basically erased them from existence.”

“That’s really appalling, Jean,” she mumbles. “But it does have to be done. If they aren’t ready, then those particular prototypes shouldn’t be released in the state that they were in at the beginning of their production. I just wish that we’d be able to work more with them now.”

“With the way things are, I don’t see that ever being a possibility.”

Mikasa sighs, turning back to the simulation room. They were finished with their training for the day. “Okay, head on out of there so that I can escort you to your rooms.”

Jean watches Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner step out. He thinks back to the old Prototype Graveyard, as he likes to call the particular storage room by name. If he could change the policy and create a better future for the old machines, he would do it in a heartbeat. But there is just too much work on them that needs to be done, reestablished, and modified. There’s just not enough time to do it with Nile in charge of the whole department. Even if he did have the chance, where would he even begin? There are six old A.I.E. rejects down there….

It’s best that he just doesn’t think about them. He pushes those ideas back into the deep, dark chasms of his memory.

While Jean and Mikasa were escorting the humanoids, Bertholdt trails right behind Jean, his large figure towering over him. He tries to get his attention by poking him. This makes Jean turn around.

“I wish you could see us more,” Bertholdt says softly. “You used to teach us so much. I want those lessons again.”

“I know you do,” he murmurs. “But I’ve gone through this with you already. I can’t offer them to you right now. Maybe, when you’re all finished with your battle training with Mikasa, I can go back to those lessons for you. Okay?”

He gives an eager nod in agreement. In turn, Reiner also looks over after listening in.

“I would really like some of those lessons as well,” she adds. “Not everything, but… maybe more about those old wars? Lessons like that are a lot more entertaining.”

“They definitely are,” Jean assures him. “But I think Mikasa has plans in teaching you more about that. Don’t you?” He glances at her after mentioning her.

She nods. “I do, Reiner. And if you ever have any questions or are curious about anything else, you are free to ask me. You know that.”

Annie is the most silent one in the group. She has always been the less talkative, but today there is this odd aura about her. She isn’t the least bit interested in their conversation, and Jean misses trying to talk to her and observe how she behaves with her friends. As they get closer to the room, he moves further back in the group to try and talk to her.

“Is something wrong, Annie?” He looks up.

She still doesn’t seem too likely enough to engage in conversation, but she does so out of reluctance. “I don’t understand why you insist on still trying to better our education. I know our only purpose here is to fight.”

This realization among them is what Jean has been afraid of. “You’re much more than that to me, Annie. That is why I want to help you. Bertholdt and Reiner probably would like it very much if you engaged in learning as well.”

“I don’t want to waste any of my time with that stuff,” she grumbles. “I’m not really interested in it anymore, anyways.”

“And that’s okay,” Jean insists. “You don’t have to be smart to have a self-fulfilling purpose. You don’t even have to like to learn, either. Whatever are the most important lessons to you are your own preferences. There are a lot of soldiers—past and present—that put their lives on the line for the safety of our people. And you can be a part of that with the knowledge you have right now. You can be a leader, a defender, or anything else that you want. Hell, you can even be a combat and warfare expert, like Mikasa. And this training is going to help you understand all the fundamentals that you’ll need before you have to put your own life on the line.”

“What life?” Annie chuckles dryly. “We have no lives. We’re just machines.”

Jean knows very well that they are more than just machines. He sees what they are capable of every day when he watches Marco at home, still learning and developing. He sees his personality growing with each milestone he jumps on, and he just loves engaging in conversations with him and seeing that smile on his face whenever Jean says something that truly pleases him. And that is the potential of this company’s work. A mechanical being that has more life to it than most humans do; that keeps moving gracefully through their own turmoil, hurdles, and flaming hoops to jump through just to achieve the self-satisfaction that every person craves. And Marco does this while running on the power of his heartbeats and circuits.

He couldn’t put that into words properly for Annie, though. So instead, he gently lays a hand on her shoulder, relieved to see that she won’t flinch away from a human’s touch even after all these simulations. “You are not ‘just a machine.’ You are capable of so much more than what everyone claims about your hardware. You are human. And so is Bertholdt and Reiner. You just are made a little differently than other humans are. And that doesn’t change your identity in the slightest. You guys are one of us, and I’m very proud of how far you have come in only a small amount of time.”

As the other two were going back into the room, Annie faces Jean. He sees the genuine happiness in her eyes, even though the rest of her expression is rather hard and stoic. That little hint of appreciation is enough.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he insists before seeing to it that all three of them are safe and in their own spaces. He locks up and leaves the laboratory.

Little does he know that those were the last good words that he’d ever hear coming from Annie.

\--

_“Hey, I’m home.” Jean lets out_ an exasperated sigh as he steps in with a few bags of groceries. It has been a very long day, and he doesn’t think that he can even muster up enough energy to eat something for dinner tonight.

Meanwhile Marco had been fiddling with the stereo again, trying to turn on good music.

“Why, hello,” Jean calls again, trying to get his attention.

He looks up, giving a small wave before going right back to the radio.

Jean puts the grocery bags on the counter and looks back at him. “Why don’t you give it a rest? I was thinking maybe tonight I’ll just order takeout. Save you some time by not cooking anything spectacular.”

“If you’re sure,” he says but still doesn’t take his attention away from the radio. “I’m a little disappointed.”

“Why is that?” He walks away from the kitchen after putting away the refrigerated items.

“I can’t find anything on here tonight. Do you think that you can play something else on the radio?” Marco sighs and finally moves away, giving up. “All that is playing is just noise.”

“You think so?” Jean blinks. “This really is what everyone likes to hear playing these days.”

“Well, I don’t like it. Not to mention the fact that there are too many advertisements that interfere with the musical aspects. I would much rather listen to something else of real substance. Do you think that you can find something?”

“Well, what did you have in mind?” Jean asks curiously.

Marco shrugs. “I’m not sure if I can describe it properly. But I remember hearing it when I was changing the channel on the television. There was an advertisement on there, but the music in the background was very… full of life. The singing was very lyrical and quiet, and the music wasn’t, as you might say, ‘up and in your face’ as everything else I would hear. It’s almost like, there is such a different feel to it than anything else I’ve heard. And I haven’t been able to find it on any of these stations.”

“Do you think that you remember what the song is called, or where you may think I can find it?”

He shakes his head. “All I can say is that there was a sweet sound.”

He isn’t sure that he can find it on the radio, but he does have kind of an idea of what he is talking about. Instead, he looks to his phone. He turns on a radio app, where he is more certain of finding music that the two of them would both enjoy. “I like listening to music from the early millennium. Like, between the years 2000 and 2020. My parents used to say that was when the quality of popular music ended. But, you can take that with a grain of salt, if you wish. Opinions are opinions, you know what I mean?”

He nods. “I think so, at least.” As he walks into the kitchen to help put the remaining groceries away, he listens to the music. Already, even though just a few seconds had passed, the atmosphere has changed to something a little sweeter. Just like he had originally requested.

“This is by a singer called Hozier,” he explains. “I’ve always been a fan of how warm and raspy his singing voice is. I was only twelve when his debut album came out, and it captivated me right form there.”

“I love the sound of his voice too,” Marco says and listens to it. The smooth melody adds a slight skip to his step while he walks around. He didn’t expect that type of reaction from himself, but he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he wants to try that again, if he can.

“Jean,” he calls, “this music is so wonderful that it makes me want to spontaneously lose control of my feet!”

Jean chuckles and walks over to him while the station plays. “I think you mean you want to dance, Marco.”

He blinks. “Oh, really? I’ve never thought of dancing before.”

“Well I think you might like it, since you wanna spontaneously lose control of your feet,” he smiles. “Do you want me to show you how to do it formally?”

“You mean, you can show me?” he asks. “I would like to experience the art of dancing for myself, if you please.”

“I’ll be able to do that for you,” he insists and then stands in front of him. “Hold out your hand.”

Marco does so, not entirely sure of the purpose. But that is when Jean takes his hand and then leads him out of the kitchen and into the living room where the music is louder. They face each other and their hands clasp together, and Jean is the one to lead.

“Just follow my lead,” he says and looks down at their feet. “When I take a step forward, you step back.” He places his foot out and steps closer into their little circle.

Curious, Marco steps back like he is told. “This is peculiar.”

“Just wait until we put everything together,” he says with a smile. “Now, I’m gonna put my other foot back, in another direction, like this.” He does as he says, and puts his foot on a slight angle. “Now, follow my lead with your feet.”

Marco does so, and when Jean continues the steps, he follows suit. Their dance is very slow, while he easily gets the hang of it. At one point though, Marco steps too forward and steps on Jean’s foot.

“Ouch,” he grunts and chuckles as he looks up. “Careful. Keep everything fluid, Marco.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly.

“It’s alright, mistakes happen,” he insists. “That’s how we learn, right?”

That is very true. If Marco is capable of making errors, then that makes him just as human as the person right in front of him. He nods in agreement. “Right. Absolutely correct.”

Even when the song changes, they keep their little dance, slowly adjusting to the different tempo. Jean can’t help but feel even more nostalgic. It reminds him of the first time he met his lost lover outside of Trost Corp. The way they danced and carried on like it was no one’s business. But this feels much more intimate than that original encounter. This time he is alone with him, and there is no one to interrupt them with strange cut-ins and Spin-the-Bottle incidents.

“You’re getting the hang of it now,” he assures him. “Look at you go. See, you’re a natural.”

“I am?” He smiles as he says it. Marco is just so full of life. And that makes him feel much more cheerful than before. He _can_ dance, and he _can_ feel much more human than he has ever felt before.

When the song changes again, Jean adds a bit more variety to his steps. And Marco easily adapts and adjusts to it. This is such a marvelous experience for Marco, and he can’t help but start to laugh while they move.

Marco feels so much emotion, that even though he doesn’t think he is capable of producing real tears, this is just as close to it. He is so happy, that he feels like he is going to burst. He experiences more of this contagious and real happiness, and these phenomena in his life is much more valuable to him than anything else he has ever felt since he was first created. He has relished in the fact that now he felt much more independent with his own bedroom and being able to take care of the house. And now that he truly know he is capable of doing even more, the thought of him being able to touch the sky doesn’t feel the least bit impossible.

“I feel real,” he then hums to himself while looking down at their feet.

Jean doesn’t quite hear what he said and watches him. “What was that?”

“I feel real,” he repeats again, and the sweet sound of laughter escapes his lips. “I feel real, Jean!”

He smiles and gently squeezes his hands while they dance. Marco keeps saying it until he feels like it is starting to sink in.

_I feel real!_

For the first time since starting his little experiment with his proudest creation, Jean actually feels like it really worked. All of a sudden, Marco feels much more like a human being than he ever did. Even with his curiosity, mood swings, and random bursts of reactions and feelings, this time out of every other instance is automatically different because he looks much more like a real human in the process. He’d grown and adapted so quickly, that he can’t think of any more reasons why he would have to worry about him. He would give anything to see him experience this true happiness again. Just to see that smile and hear that laugh. It was truly wonderful.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” he tells him as his laughter rings throughout the apartment.

“This is the greatest day of my life,” Marco suddenly cheers and laughs, stopping their steady little stride.

Jean sees a spark in Marco’s eyes that is just as genuine as it can get. “I hope every day after this is even greater.”

 

* * *

 

_Jean and Marco’s relationship had steadily_ been increasing in intimacy. According to Eren, they were star-crossed lovers. And it didn’t take long at all for them to agree with that. Unfortunately, they spend more time together at a work environment than alone together on a date, or even in one of their apartments. But even with that disadvantage, they were able to continue talking to each other like a couple in the comfort of their office.

However, most of the time they just discuss about their research and how they could move further into perfecting it. They were having a lot of issues with P006 in terms of development.

“Can we see Hitch today?” Marco then said excitedly.

Jean looked over. Ever since they named the prototype, their attachments grew even stronger. They wished nothing more than for her to be successful in their tests. Jean laughed at his boyfriend’s question and nodded along. “Of course, we can see her. We have to prepare her for Zackly’s evaluation of her.”

“Right.” He giggled and they walked out together. “She’s passed every single emotion in her hard drive. I see no reason why she wouldn’t pass. Plus, I think she’d develop a very intelligent career very quickly once we let her go to college.”

“One step at a time,” Jean teased. “We still haven’t let her go outside yet. I don’t want to think about her growing up already.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed happily and they held hands. Their touch was brief, since once they went into the laboratory, they had to resume their professional positions once again. They walked towards the enclosure that they were keeping Hitch. “Once she passes the evaluation with Zackly, do you think that we can take her out to Central Park? Let her experience some good, honest to god fresh air.”

“I don’t see why we can’t at that point,” he insisted happily and smiled.

“Great!” He then rushed into the office before Jean. But when he looked beyond the glass wall, he saw… no one was inside. “Hitch?” Marco went back towards the entrance. “Jean—”

“I know…” Jean was just as confused as he was. “Maybe she’s just hiding.” He stepped in and turned on the microphone. “Hitch, this is Mr. Kirschtein. Mr. Bodt is here too. We have trouble finding you. If you can hear us, please respond.”

Marco bit his lip and moved closer to the glass. He placed his hand onto the surface and glanced at Jean briefly.

“Hitch, can you hear us?” Jean tried talking to her again. When he started feeling more concerned, he raised his voice. “Hitch? …Six!” He tried calling her by her prototype number. Even that didn’t work.

They both heard someone come in and turned around. It was Nile.

“Mr. Dok, where’s Six?” Jean stepped away from the control board with his arms crossed.

Nile let out a seemingly devastated sigh. “It failed the evaluation.”

“…What evaluation?” Marco frowned. “Zackly wasn’t scheduled to be here for another three weeks. What evaluation?!” He then repeated angrily.

“We had our own thorough evaluation.”

“But we’re the behavioral team!” Jean was toe to toe with the director. “Whatever tests or evaluations you have _our_ subjects going through, we have to be a part of them as well! We have the right to know what exactly you’re putting her through!”

“What did you do to her?!”

“Mr. Kirschtein… Mr. Bodt.” There was such evident disdain in Nile’s voice. “It was a very simple evaluation. This whole… A.I.E. project is supposed to help develop the perfect human, correct? And P006 was not the perfect human. Sure, it can act the part, but there is no connection or bond formed in return. So, we have to start all over.”

“You’re supposed to go to me first before you deactivate the prototypes!” Jean was so enraged by this decision. “This is my father’s legacy that you’re killing here! _Nothing_ deviates from the project without my knowledge!”

“Such a powerful, bold statement from someone who supposedly has all the know-how and say-so of the project… without a PhD.”

Nile always made such a low blow when it came to how much education he had… or how little, in this case. But whatever the case may be, his father inherited all authority over this project to him! He was so sick of them making all the decisions here for them!

“Besides…” Nile cut in yet again. “Nothing constructive will ever get done if you two keep bonding with our test subjects. They are experiments. We cannot classify them as human beings without giving them the proper tests.”

“…Yes, Sir.” Jean gave up. It was not worth the energy to continue arguing with him any further.

However, Marco was not going to let this go, and Jean could see it. He could see it in the distress on his face and the tears that were pooling and starting to fall from his sad eyes. He didn’t want to accept defeat. This was like losing a child. Marco wasn’t prepared for it or ready to handle the fact that he had to give Hitch up. It was without warning… This was incredibly unfair. She had so much potential in her!

Marco hurried and stepped out of the office and into the observation room. He just needed a moment to breathe, to reevaluate, to face acceptance… but already he came to a startling realization.

Just looking around the room made him feel much smaller than he ever had felt. Was this how the prototypes felt every day and night that they were left alone in here without any comfort from another human’s touch? He felt like an exploited side attraction. No wonder Hitch wasn’t feeling any real connections or bonds, even with him and Jean trying to communicate with her.

And even as he has hid hands on the glass, just like before but now from the opposite side, he looks at Jean with a fearful and pained expression, just begging for him to understand how crucial this small epiphany was.

But in this moment in time, Jean had been grudgingly glaring at Nile for too long to notice it.

 

* * *

 

_“Marco? What’s the matter?”_

_Marco finds_ himself being viciously ripped away from a strange flash in time again. For once, he just wanted to know what these strange visions meant! Why was he confused at the feeling of his old room? When he’d imagined it just then, it was through different eyes and an unfamiliar, grievous aura settled about him. These instances are starting to get very irritating.

“Marco?” Jean calls to him again. “Earth to Marco… what’s going on?”

“O-oh, nothing.” He quickly recovers. What was he doing?

Sweeping… sweeping the kitchen floor. Yes… back in reality he goes, continuing through the rhythmic motions of cleaning the floor. He shakes his head, trying to clear it and move away from the strange fantasy. Should he tell Jean? These visions are starting to really bother him.

“You tend to get very spacey sometimes,” Jean points out. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He smiles and rubs his head. “See? I’m getting much better at smiling.”

“I can see that.” He goes through some more files. “Listen, Marco.”

“Yes?” He glances up again, finally finished with his chore.

There is a small pause. “I see that you are vastly improving in your social skills. And it’s been a little bit since you had left Trost Corp. I think the warrants have been lifted. Luckily, you may have just been left for dead.”

“Normally, that wouldn’t be considered a good thing, Jean.”

That sarcastic tone is so familiar that it makes Jean laugh harder than intended. “Right, I know. But that’s beside the point. What I’m getting at is… I would like to take you outside.”

Did those words really come out of Jean’s mouth? His eyes light up. “You do? Where?”

“To Central Park first. Then I would like to… maybe take you to a more crowded setting if you’re comfortable at the park. Maybe the movie theater? I’ll see what is playing, and maybe it will peak your interest.”

“That will be wonderful!” Marco doesn’t even give him a second more to finish. “Please, I really want to go outside!”

Jean loves when he gets excited. He behaves a lot like a small child. “We’ll be able to tomorrow,” he insists. “If it’s not raining.”

“Yes!”

The way he cheers intrigues Jean. He watches how his eyes light up and how his tone completely matches the look on his face. He wonders if putting the entire city of New York in a Turing Test will help truly prove his father’s original hypothesis. These beautiful humanoids can and will live among mankind just like everyone else.

As Marco seamlessly turns to Jean again, he gets another flash. This one is much more sudden in the back of his mind than the first. This time he feels the utter, _utter_ anguish embedded in his head, and there’s an overwhelming sense of torment and dread. It comes upon him in a vicious wave. And the vision itself is only for a split second.

It’s a painfully bright light, with several different faces above him, hidden by masks. And the only sound he hears is an agonizing scream… coming from his throat.

He rips himself away from Jean several more feet, holding his head. As quick as the flash comes, it dissipates, leaving him breathless. Jean quickly moves closer to try and investigate.

“Hey. Marco, are you sure you’re okay?”

His reaction is sluggish. Just a moment of staring upward into his eyes with this vacant and dead expression. “I will be fine after some time alone.” He leaves it at that and walks to his room.

“…What just happened?” Jean is left alone in a daze. He hurries to his room and pulls out his voice recorder. He turns it on and sounds a little bit breathless from the exertion. “It’s June 14th, 2035. I’ve completely lost track of the days, but I have come across this strange instance. As the days progress, Marco is becoming more and more spaced out. I can’t find out the reasons why, for he wishes not to discuss them, but they are becoming more alarming with each time. Today, it has happened twice. The second time, he’d seemed to go haywire for a moment there. I wish to find out what exactly is going on with him. Maybe I will find out more information if I talk to Hanji about this occurrence.”

As he turns the recorder off, he sighs heavily and slumps back onto his bed. He’s going to find out what’s happening, even if he has to beg. This alarming behavior may be the reason why his test could’ve potentially failed if they had gone further into their experiments. He isn’t sure if he does or will feel safe much longer living in the apartment with him. He is more or less hoping that soon he will find the source to this problem and put an end to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and making it this far, I hope you've enjoyed it!
> 
> Comments or any other form of feedback is very much appreciated! I love to hear your input, criticisms, or even encouragement if you wish to voice anything! You guys are the reason why I keep creating content and use my writing powers for both good and evil!
> 
> tumblr: tiff-the-wanderer.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @wandering_tiff  
> writing blog: flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com


	9. Grotesque.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories and footage is being resurfaced unexpectedly, and suspicions arise from a horrifying source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have become Quentin Tarantino because I'm obsessed with flashbacks. Other than that, there's nothing much to report.
> 
> There's some sex and then horror aspects in this chapter, just a warning! And I also attempted found footage for a chunk of this chapter. And because of this chapter, the rating is going to go up to Explicit.
> 
> Well, anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

 

Grotesque (adj.)

_Comically or repulsively ugly, or distorted_

 

* * *

 

 

_Losing a loved one involves feeling_ a lot of grief and dread. And this recent loss was almost too much for them. After Hitch was deactivated, Jean and Marco could barely function in the workplace, knowing that their own company had gone to great lengths without giving them any chance to explain themselves. It was devastating, to say the least.

“I don’t want to start all over, Jean,” Marco murmured while they cuddled together on the couch. “Hitch was fine just the way she was. Even if there were some problems, the first option with things like that shouldn’t automatically be that we have to deactivate her.”

“I know…” Jean nuzzled his face into his lover’s shoulder. “But the best thing we can do now is figure out how we can prevent this from happening again. We have to ‘wow’ both Mr. Dok and Mr. Zackly and make sure they see something spectacular.”

A small smile started to grow on his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

A storm had started outside, proving the weatherman’s prediction earlier that day. And their TV connection from the satellite started to lose signal. They both groaned in annoyance and turned it off.

“That sucks… what do we watch now?”

It took a little while for them to decide, but then Marco got a cheeky idea for a selection. “Hey, I got one.” He hurried over to his entertainment shelves, examining his collection. “What is the worst romance movie you have ever seen in your entire life? And don’t say _The Room_.”

Jean thought about that and looked down. “Probably _All About Steve._ ”

“Oh, that one’s pretty terrible,” he frowned. “Well, the worst one I’ve ever seen is _Gigli_ , but I thankfully chose not to waste any of my money on that atrocity. Instead, I have a close second that’s just as… good? Bad? I dunno.” Then Marco pulled out a DVD. “It’s called _Old Fashioned._ Ever heard of it?”

Jean shook his head and lied back. “Does it at least have one hand job in it?” he teased.

He snorted. “That’d make the movie at least a little more intriguing. It’s basically a Christian film, but it tries so hard to sell the message that a romantic comedy doesn’t have to be filth in order to be good that it’s so ham-fisted and contrived.”

“A ham-fisted and contrived romantic comedy. My favorite,” Jean laughed and sat back a bit more.

Marco started to set it up. “Look, I like the idea of a romance concept that doesn’t involve sex. Good, clean fun sounds like it would be a great film. And although conservative relationships aren’t really my cup of tea, but I can see why people choose to be involved in those kinds of courtships. But this… there isn’t any love in it whatsoever. It’s all just so forced, and the actor that plays the main guy is just creepy by default.”

“That sounds like it’s going to be a wild ride.”

When they started to watch it, neither of them thought that they were going to make it the whole way through together. Indeed, they didn’t. As soon as they started to hear the reasoning behind how a man who had been married for over thirty years managed it without actually loving his wife and only staying with her out of pure pity, they were pretty much done with the shit that was served to them.

“Not exactly the worst romance I’d ever seen, but I’ll give it this: it’s worse than Fifty Shades of Grey.”

“That’s a pretty strong statement,” Marco chuckled. “I knew we were meant to be together.”

“That’s quite the test to prove that,” Jean laughed. He then let out a huff while they tried finding something else to watch. “God, does that director even know what love is? Or just the simple dynamics of good communication? It’s not that difficult of a concept for people to register.”

“You’re right.” However, as he was thinking it over, that was when Marco came to a sudden realization. “People can register it easily… but robots can’t.”

He blinked. “Wait, come again?”

With a wide grin on his face, Marco looked up and dropped the DVD case. “Robots can’t understand love. And without the concept of love, other emotional stimulus responses are hindered and limited! That’s it! That’s what we have been missing, Jean!”

“Love?”

“Yes! Well, that’s a part of it. But, my god, that’s it!” He hurried into his room to get his notebook. When he came back out he started writing. “It’s like Nile said. Hitch could act the part of being a human, but she couldn’t form any bonds with us the way that we could with her. If she understood and was able to feel these different emotional behaviors herself, she would’ve been able to build friendships, increase bonding and relationship skills, and she would’ve figured out how to trust and build connections. Love has been the missing piece all this time!”

He continued jotting notes and built up a couple of diagrams for Jean to look at. “See, as you already know, nature has endowed humans with general patterns of emotional responses. And nurture conditions us to follow these stimulus responses to reflect different types of emotions and variations thereof. These patterns include rage, fear, and love. Rage interferes with our human behavior and actions by providing the primary stimulus of thwarting. Anger, frustration, irritation… and any other variations in between.”

Marco then points to the next spot of his diagram. “And fear is generally the response to loud noises, or loss of support. Loss of support is generally linked to grief, being distanced from long-lasting relationships, or even the effects of losing your job, house, car, anything! This can include any emotions within the range of sadness, anxiety, and any uncomfortable tensions caused by being forced into these conditions.“

“I know all this stuff,” Jean chuckled and looked at his notebook. “What conclusion are you leaning towards, Marco?”

“See, we’ve only spoon fed Hitch the ability to understand the different stimulus responses to rage and fear, but nothing has an actual impact on her. We’ve only scratched the surface. We’ve shown her what causes the thwarting stimulus, as well as shown her different effects when it comes to losing support. This is where we get into love. That emotional response is usually the result of showing affection or favors.”

“Have you been watching old 1950s public service announcements again?”

“Jean, let me finish!” he pouted. “And yes.”

“I knew that sounded familiar,” he grinned.

Marco took his arm, trying to signal for him to pay attention. “We haven’t given her the concepts of reflecting these particular emotional responses. She can act it out all she wants and not learn anything from it, because we haven’t given her the resources to make these conscious decisions _herself._ When it came to actually showing it or feeling it, she has nothing. She didn’t understand how any these stimuli have any impact on her life or well-being. She gave us apathetic, indifferent responses overall. I’ve looked back at our different tests with her. Although she would sometimes answer seemingly correct or positive answers, they weren’t coming from Hitch herself. They were coming from the software that we had given her. Her mind is not coming to the conclusions herself. And without any love embedded in her coding, she can’t feel real joy or compassion, which contributes to an emotional cycle that humans generally have already displayed from their genetics and reinforced nurturing skills. Now, here is where I’m drawing our attention to: We have to go back into the original program and rebuild using these principles as our primary tools. Next prototype, we have to _triple_ check to see if the responses are actually coming from the humanoid themselves, and not just because their program mimicked it for them. This is such a simple solution, why didn’t we see this before?”

“We never saw this coming, Marco.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “We haven’t looked at it from that perspective. And I agree. We should start right back from the beginning and recreate the program to fit it with the best interest of giving this next prototype a real identity. Our research depends on it.”

Marco nodded. “It’s so amazing what our technology is capable of. So in order to show the world that we can make a human being, we will show them a human being that will understand, express, and show love.” After a moment, he smiled slyly. “And hey, I bet my friend in graduate school that I would be able to shoe-horn in the whole ‘can a robot feel love’ argument into my research after my academic career. Somebody owes me sixty dollars.”

Jean laughed and gave his lover a kiss. “You are so brilliant, you know that?”

The compliment caused him to blush, and he diverted his eyes shyly. “I may have alluded you to that conclusion once or twice.”

“Modest, too…”

They laughed together once more and kiss again.

“You’re also very funny, sweet, and super sexy,” Jean insisted gently against his neck.

“Oh… is that so now?” he giggled and ran his hands along Jean’s back.

Before any of them could say another word, they just keep kissing each other while outside it starts raining harder. There may have been a rumble of thunder, but neither of them cared or even bothered to notice. All that they cared about was each other. Nothing else mattered in that moment, even if the power does suddenly go out.

Okay, maybe the power going out helped them snap out of it for just a few seconds, even while they were trying to pull off each other’s shirts.

Marco groaned and felt his way towards the kitchen, taking out a few candles. “Where’s my lighter…?”

When Jean found it for him, they make their way towards the bedroom; a way that they have memorized several times. Lighting the candles was a chore, but they now have a little bit of illumination in the room to guide their way.

They gave one another more kisses that were full of promises, and when Jean was slightly startled by the flash of lightning outside, they both laughed together and continued to carry on. The clothes were easy to take out of their little equation, and their skin touching together was _electrifying._ Marco thought it was ticklish whenever Jean kissed along his abdomen and down his body further, and the way he squirmed while he laughed always put a smile on Jean’s face, even now.

“I-I wanna be aroused, not amused,” Marco warned in the middle of his laughter. His concentration wasn’t broke for long once Jean’s mouth engulfed over almost the entirety of his girth. “You’re teasing me, baby.”

But Jean just continued bobbing his head, even after his lover tugged on his hair. He gently moves his legs apart, trying to take Marco in even further. With his hands running along his upper thighs and the rain ramming harder against the wall, he knows just how to make his flustered boyfriend even more breathless.

“Don’t… ahh, slow down. I-I don’t wanna come just yet.”

Jean’s attention perked up to his face, and he was reluctant to pull away. He smiled and gestured to the nightstand. “Let’s not keep you waiting then.”

Marco nodded eagerly and fished through the drawer for their condoms and lubricant. “Y-you know what would also be good for the seventh prototype?”

“What?” he hummed while prepping his fingers with the slick liquid.

“The ability to form even stronger relationships,” he insisted and panted while bending his legs back. “T-they may be able to make conscious choices about who they’re attracted to, and if they desire intimacy and sexual arousal. Imagine how much more complex of a human they’ll be, with all different emotions—ohh, _fuck_ ,” he was interrupted and cut with a gasp when he felt Jean’s one finger slowly push inside him. “A-and they can form their own identity, with more likes and dislikes, and their ability to make conscious decisions.” He groaned while rocking his hips, urging for Jean to keep going with his fingers. “They’ll be able to choose if they do or do not want sex, or if they even want to pursue any romantic relationships at all.”

As he finished, Jean gave him a deep kiss that left him trembling with pleasure and continuing his steady rhythm back against his hand. He reveled in the way Marco grabbed onto him with desperation and begged for more with his body.

“That all sounds like wonderful additions to their makeup,” he insisted happily. “Right now, I don’t want you to think about work…” He heard Marco gasp as he moved his fingers in further, stretching him open and getting into his prostate. He lived for the whines and whimpers that this caused. “We’ll go back to our research later. Let’s have some fun right now.”

“Yes,” Marco nodded insistently. “Yes, p-please.”

The storm continued outside as Jean pulled his fingers out. While he slipped on the condom and prepped himself, he looked down at Marco to notice his flushed skin and fucked out expression. He took note of the way his chest heaved while he panted and how sexy he got when his legs were already spread apart and ready for him. He leaned down and kissed him while holding his cock, guiding it to the entrance of Marco’s ass as he slowly pushed inside him.

Marco loved to start out right away, without any hesitations, but when he was with Jean, he enjoyed the way he took it slow and built up to the speed he liked it best. His moans were building up in volume with each thrust, and Jean couldn’t help but grin when he felt his lover’s iron tight grip on his back. That encouraged him to move faster, his hips guiding him by rolling in and out.

“Oh, my _god,_ you’re so fucking good,” Marco gasped with another moan following his words. His legs wrapped around Jean’s waist while he guided him closer, his kisses along his neck leading him on too. “C’mon, keep doing it, baby.”

Jean was very eager to oblige, and not once did he stop or slow down while his pace increased. There was this hot and enticing atmosphere in the air, a wildfire set ablaze with their moans and the rocking bed feeding it further. Whenever his fast, pumping motions got a little strenuous to follow through all at once, he’d slow it down briefly with long and _deep_ thrusts so that he wouldn’t make Marco feel like he wasn’t getting enough. And when he was able to hit that sweet spot, Marco’s cries and whines for more became and unmistakably helpful encouragement. He made sure to go faster and faster for him whenever he asked, and even harder inside him whenever he begged. Jean was more than willing to help at his every whim to make this experience one that neither of them will forget.

“Jean- k-keep going, I’m so close!” Marco whined and held Jean to make sure that he kept it up by going deeper and grinding harder to help him come.

“I’ve got you, Marco,” He insisted, keeping it the way he liked it and shivering more with arousal at hearing his love crying out his name repeatedly and feeling his body tightening more and more around him as he could feel Marco getting even _closer_.

And when Marco comes, Jean feels more than just lucky to have Marco this way and to see him like this. These realizations going across his mind all at once, it mind-blowing, and he leads Marco further up to cloud Nine while bringing himself closer as well. And when they both have released their fire and allowed for it to be extinguished, one hesitant but affirming phrase falls from both of their lips and they are panting and holding each other.

_“I love you.”_

 

* * *

 

_It’s hot. So incredibly hot… suffocating_ but _perfect_. Combined flashes of rushed exhales and the slickness of sweat, lingering among the fragments of dialogue just muffled by the intensity. It stops unsuspecting Marco dead in his tracks as he’s lying in his bed and letting his battery charge. It’s like a fire that he’s never seen before. It’s enticing, but at the same time dangerous.

Marco jolts himself out of bed and walks outside of his room. He needs a second to figure out what he’d just experienced in there. It’s nothing like he’d ever felt before. Or seen. His mind’s eye had played pretty interesting images.

He hears footsteps and looks up to see Jean getting out of his room too. He looks up and rubs the back of his head. “Marco… what’s going on? It’s very late.”

“I know, but… it’s very strange,” he whispers. “I thought I saw something that… well, it’s a strange image.”

“Do you feel afraid? Or in danger?” Jean asks curiously.

He shakes his head. “I just felt… really warm, looking at these images. And it was almost suffocating. But I thought my hardware prevents me from feeling such extreme things that a normal human does.”

“I’m not sure what exactly you’re implying, but I can assure you that you are most likely working properly.” He moves closer. “C’mere. Take your shirt off so I can examine your chest.”

He nods and takes it off. He feels shivers running all over his torso right underneath his synthetic flesh. He stays calm and lets Jean touch near his vitals with his hands and leaning in to listen to the sounds of his whirring core. He probably must be overworking it, since it’s supposed to be charging right now.

“Marco, you shouldn’t be overworking your core… have you been charging it properly?”

“I have. Just, I couldn’t stay still tonight. It’s a little hard with the whole… imagery thing that I’ve been experiencing right now.”

Jean looks up. “How serious is it?”

He sighs. “Sometimes… I feel like when you look at me, you don’t feel comfortable trying to personally assess me or get to being at least a little more technical. I feel like I’m overlooked or somehow not to your interest. Are you avoiding me, Jean?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. I thought we’ve established that you are have a place here, and that I am going to set things right with you by taking you outside and to the park. Our research is nowhere near done yet.”

“I know, but I feel like I can be honest with you by giving you some insight. I know that I have been built to look like your lost lover.”

Taken by complete surprise, Jean steps back. “But I haven’t told you that. How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen images, Jean. I’ve looked in the mirror and seen my body. And I’ve seen images of him; the real him, I mean. When I picked his name in the past to use as my new identity, I didn’t think that I looked just like him as well. I just wanted the name because I knew that it fit me the best. And knowing that this is how similar the two of us are… that’s a little off-putting. Why was I created to look like him in the first place?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he mumbles. “That wasn’t my decision. After he died, you were ready to be activated three weeks later. I saw that they made you look just like him, and I didn’t even know how I was supposed to react appropriately. I was mostly angry, since I wanted you to have your own look and your own identity. And then Mr. Dok told me that they redid the hardware and design of him to make it more fitting to have you be dedicated completely in Marco’s memory. Well… I kind of accepted it like that, but at the same time, it felt really weird.”

“So sometimes… do you see him—your lover… do you see him in me? In the way I look, or speak?”

This is a very touchy subject for Jean. He wishes that this didn’t get brought up at all, but he knows that he should be as honest with Marco as he is honest with him. “Yes. Sometimes. It’s more in the way you look. Your expressions are very similar to his, as well as the similar emotional patterns and methods of critical thinking. You are very much like him, and furthermore… he’d be very proud if he could see you now. In fact, without him, you wouldn’t be as unique and incredibly advanced as you are now.”

Marco listened to him while they both sat on the couch together to talk. “Really? I had no idea… that is actually, really exciting. I wish I could’ve met him.”

“Yeah. And I think he’d be really thrilled to have a little twin, too.”

He chuckles and rubs his arm. “Going back to those particular questions… because you sometimes see him within me, does that keep you from forming a better friendship with me?”

Jean insistently shakes his head. “No, of course not. You are incredibly special, and I love working with you. And once you’re able to go outside and do more things on your own, I definitely see us having a stronger friendship in the near future. But right now, I’m your mentor. I have to make sure you’re ready for anything when it comes time for you to be more independent. Understand?”

“Of course,” he nods.

With that, Jean smiles at him once more and pats his shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Central Park, okay? I think you’re really going to like it.”

Marco’s eyes light up. “I can’t wait!”

“Good,” he says happily and goes back over to his room. “See you in the morning.”

“Yes. Good night,” he grins, getting up too. He goes back to bed to let his battery charge once more.

He feels a lot better now that he at least had a little bit of a talk about what’s going on with his mind, but he still has yet to reveal everything. He honestly thinks that Jean doesn’t believe him. But he still sees the images, constantly. They come and go. The thing about these strange flashbacks… he has never seen them personally, and yet they are there. Sometimes, he gets the feeling that maybe, there is an instinct inside trying to tell him to react. But it is not yet strong enough.

That doesn’t make them any less horrifying.

 

* * *

 

_The recording is fuzzy. As the_ camera goes into focus, a very familiar and freckled face appears on the screen to make sure everything was set for the video.

“This thing on? …Yes,” Marco smiled. “This is Night 26 in Project Seven, and I’m ready to show off the skeleton in our new hardware that we have all developed.” He moved the camera away from his face and moved it to show right in front of him. He whistled to himself while he walked out of the office, and he moved towards the laboratory. “I just have to go into this chamber here…” He opened the door. “Ooh, it’s a little dark in here,” he giggled. The only light in the room was a green glow coming from the machines storing Seven’s vitals.

The camera panned around the skeletal structure on display after turning on the fluorescent lights. The hardware was lit up too with different indicators of artificial pulses. There was another light giggle in the background as Marco’s hand reached out to touch its shoulder. He then moved the camera to himself.

“Hanji says that this is going to be one of the best structured ones, because we are also including another layer of artificial muscular structure, which can help with stronger looking stimulus responses and facial expressions. And plus, we’re taking even greater detail in its anatomy. I’m really excited to see this once the skin is finished. The coding is almost ready to send to their mind. I really can’t wait.”

As the camera stayed on him, there were some noises in the background that made him perk up. “What was that?” He moved the camera to the doorway that he heard the noises from. “Someone else is in here?” He asked himself and slowly crept up by the doorway.

There was a conversation going on that Marco was overhearing. He wasn’t even aware that there were other people around at this hour. He turned the camera to face him again, the lighting all askew because of how much darker the hallway was. “I’m usually the only one here at this hour. Jean doesn’t like staying here to late at night, so it’s scary…” When he crept closer and switched the camera back, he could see Nile’s face briefly among a few other scientists. However, these ones he didn’t recognize, except for Hanji.

“What the hell…?” He tried keeping as quiet as possible. He moved the camera out further and tried zooming in as close as possible. He saw them working on something on an operation table. He couldn’t really see what it was, but it definitely wasn’t Seven.

Now he could hear Nile talking. “Is it ready to be tested yet?” he asked.

“Not quite.” Marco has never heard this particular voice before. It was really confusing, but he didn’t have much time to try and distinguish it.

“What do you mean by that, Zerumski?” Nile groaned and faced the table. Marco was able to get a nice view of his irritated expression. “Zackly wants this ready as soon as possible.”

This Zerumski guy continued talking. “Well, it’s apparent that he’s waiting for a very specific prototype. This is one of our own creation. Freudenberg and I need to make sure that it doesn’t completely and violently lash out at everything in sight. We need to at least domesticate it a little bit.”

“I don’t care about domesticating it,” he muttered. “It’s perfect. It needs to be able to cause destruction. With this addition to the Artificial Intelligence Evolution line, we can completely destroy the original reputation of Alistair Kirschtein and have our own weapons to sell in mass.”

“The fuck?” Marco kept as quiet as possible as he turned the camera to himself once more. “I don’t like the sound of all this. What’s going on?” He moved it back, not wanting to miss any more of this information.

Nile looked at the other scientists. “Dr. Hanji, I’ve never seen a creation so satisfying. Why haven’t we thought of this before?”

Hanji was taking notes. “It may need some more modifications. I need to study its behavior.”

“Oh, we don’t need any of that right now. Let’s turn it on and test it.”

“This completely goes against the plan,” Marco whispered behind the camera. “Why would Nile green light this?”

Nile then unlocks restraints that are on the table. “Let’s activate it. We might as well see if Titan is fully functioning.”

While Hanji was laughing in the background, Marco was really confused. “…Titan?”

“Oh, Titan, huh?” they chuckled. “How ironic, since you got so angry when Jean and Marco named Six.”

“Well, this is different,” he insisted. “I’m the director of the whole project, and this one is my favorite. So I have a right to name it. Besides, it sounds so much better than P006.5, since you guys are already in the process of creating Seven.”

“Very true,” they replied. “Freudenberg, activate Titan. Moblit, Zerumski, stay on either side and be ready to restrain it.”

Marco left the video recording and was starting to grow a little uneasy. He zoomed in even further, if possible, making sure it was more focused. He needed to see this, and eventually he’d have to report this recording to… well, to someone. The director was right in the room with the others, and he was in charge of it. Maybe Zackly? Since he knew that Zackly was expecting the real seventh prototype. Right?

He gets sidetracked when he hears the strange robot being activated. Then he watched it get up and recorded it in horror. It looked _nothing_ like a human. It was grotesque in a way that some of the features on its body were much more exaggerated than the others. And these exaggerations just look completely wrong. There was hardly any skin on it… The face was like a terrible caricature, with huge, uneven eyes and a gaping mouth. What should be the teeth are almost black, made completely of unpolished metal.

“It’s hideous,” one of the scientists next to Hanji muttered, really quiet but just loud enough that the camera was able to pick it up a bit.

“It looks dangerous,” Nile corrected, not nearly as secretive. “I love it. Is there a list of commands?”

Zerumski shook his head. “The programming in its mind is too minimal. It’s almost impossible to create any commands whatsoever. All it knows how to do is kill.”

“Brilliant!”

“I don’t… this… defective.”

The camera could only pick up so much, and there are several different points where the camera sometimes can glitch a little bit. That made Marco more worried that he would lose some of the footage.

But there definitely was a growl. It must have come from this “Titan” character. The camera trembled a bit, since Marco had suddenly shivered.

Hanji looked over nervously. “Zerumski, watch outl!”

Titan turned its head and opened its large mouth, its jaw extending out and right over this stranger’s head. The camera shook again and moved away from the view of the violent display. Marco’s panicked and heavy breathing could be heard, and he was trying not to scream. When he moved the camera back to its original position, Zerumski’s decapitated body collapsed onto the floor. Titan spat the messy head right out of its mouth.

“Turn it off, Moblit! Freudenberg, restrain it!”

The scientists surrounded Titan, and before anything else could happen, the camera moved away from the scene as Marco quickly started to run. He was too scared of getting caught, and he could hear them still struggling and shouting while Titan’s ominous growls echo throughout the halls. He hurried to his office and rested the camera down on the desk brashly. He looked into the lens and looked like he was ready to cry. He covered his face and was sobbing for several minutes before bringing his attention back to the camera.

“I’m so… I-I don’t know if I can trust anyone here anymore. I’m so scared that we’re going to lose our integrity because of this. W-what about our project, and the advances we’re going through? They… c-created this—this _monster_ without a soul in its entire body. I feel sick. So, s-so sick…”

Marco suddenly moved away from the camera and off to the side, and all that could be heard was painful retching and gagging. It was like this for several minutes before he came back to view and wiped his mouth.

“I have to tell Jean about this,” he said shakily. “He has to see this footage. Oh god, what if he doesn’t believe me?”

Marco was panicking, and he looked around once more in hesitation. It was evident to see that he was starting not to feel safe here. Before anything else could happen, the recording shut off.

 

* * *

 

_Jean has his tapes playing while_ he can feel sunrise starting to encourage the dawn of a brand new day. It’s June sixteenth today… Marco’s birthday. And it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish which Marco he was referring to. He and Seven were both so very similar to each other.

These old home videos bring to him a strong sense of nostalgia. He misses seeing his lover’s smiling face and hearing his genuine laughter. He enjoys seeing these recordings from time to time, remembering the good old days where they still worked together and no harm could come to either of them.

“It’s not fair that you get the big piece. It’s _my_ birthday!” Marco giggles within the video.

Jean was recording this particular video and was on the other side of the camera. But he can hear how happy he sounded, and his laughter was genuine and sincere.

“Well, why don’t we fight for it?”

“To the death?” Marco teases.

“It depends on how much you want the cake.”

In the video, Jean had put the camera down and started happily chasing Marco around the apartment, reaching out to grab his arm.

With this sad smile on his face, Jean keeps watching the videos. He doesn’t expect Marco to get out of his room any time soon, and they are supposed to go to the park today. He doesn’t want to disappoint him and turns off the video to start getting ready. As he throws on a decent shirt, he hears his phone ringing. He reaches across to the nightstand and sees Eren on the caller ID. Of course he’s confused, and he quietly answers it.

“Yes?”

“Oh Jean, you’re awake.” Eren sighs from the other end and Jean can hear some ruffling papers.

“What’s the matter?” Jean sits down on his bed. “Why call me so early.”

“Jean, it’s about Marco. The case… I think we may have found a link to his murder.”

The word makes him stiffen. _Murder…_

“What do you mean, murder?” he mutters. “He’d died in an accident. It said so on the certificate.”

“The accident report is false,” Eren then insists. “Someone created a fake death certificate. The Chief found that there were no indications of it being a legitimate document. And it explains why his body was never found or recovered. He may have been murdered, Jean. We are reopening the investigation.”

His throat feels very dry. “Why would anyone want to murder him, though?”

“We aren’t certain at this point, but we do have a lead.” There is a pause. “We’ve learned that the last place that Marco was at before his death was at Trost Corp. We’ll need a warrant, but I think that might be a clue.”

_The last place Marco was at before his death was at Trost Corp!_

It echoed painfully in Jean’s head. Does this mean that someone inside the building had killed him? Was it someone within the company? Why would they do this?!

“I appreciate that you have gotten such a huge lead,” Jean insists over the phone. “But I’m sorry, I gotta let you go.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Armin and I will keep you posted, okay?”

Jean doesn’t have the energy to respond. He hangs up the phone, all the excitement and peaceful acceptance he had shown earlier quickly turning into dread. How is he supposed to take this all in? Who of all people would really do that? And he can’t ask anyone right now, because they will all deny it. That is just how it works.

One thing was definitely certain though. Marco was murdered, and someone at Trost Corp is guilty of this. Although he didn’t want to draw any conclusions, he thinks he may already have a couple suspects in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for making it this far into the chapter. Feedback, criticism, and maybe even encouragement is very much appreciated! I hope you will all continue following the story, and none of my writing would be possible without all of you.
> 
> Make sure to follow me on different forms of social media for updates!  
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> Writing Blog: flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com


	10. Acceptance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Marco enters the outside world once more, things do not exactly go the way they are originally planned. He has many questions that he keeps suppressed, but one thing is for certain. Jean believes in him, no matter what happens to him or what will become of their building relationship.

 

 

Acceptance (n.)

_Agreement with or belief in an idea, an opinion, or explanation; willingness to tolerate a difficult or unpleasant situation._

 

 

* * *

 

 

_As Jean sits there pondering the_ conversation he’d just had with Eren, he hears footsteps coming down the hallway. Marco is awake.

He looks over, trying to look like he was pleased to see him. “After breakfast, are you ready to come out with me to the park?”

“Am I?” he beams with excitement, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long!”

“I know you have. And you deserve this.”

Several hours have gone by as Jean had his meal and they both got dressed in reasonable clothes. Marco almost loses track of time by just looking at his reflection in the mirror. He is beyond delighted to just see the world once more. However, something has hindered his happiness.

Those late nights when he would sit alone and allow himself to recharge, he is still left alone with these strange memories. However, it now seemed clearer as to what was going on. It wasn’t his own memories that he was seeing; they were Marco’s.

But how? How is it possible for him to have these memories and this footage? Seeing that at one point, the memory from last night has definitely shifted points of view, it should be confirmed that it’s all old footage. And the most important question he wants to ask himself is “Why?” Why is he seeing all these things? What is the purpose?

That… Titan that he saw in that footage is troubling him greatly. The appearance, the savage nature… the thirst for blood. If it does turn out that Nile has been creating this machine with malicious intent, why is it that he has to have this information locked away in his brain? Shouldn’t Jean have this footage? After all, he was very close to the original Marco in life and probably would have believed him.

He feels dirty looking at his reflection. He feels more and more like just a copy of the old Marco. Despite Jean’s reassurance, he feels like he truly doesn’t have his own identity. He is a hollow of a human with someone else’s memories stored inside his mind. Did he even learn anything on his own? Did he store his own memories in his head at all, or is it all just repeats from someone else? All this information fed into him, and he has many more questions to ask. None of them will probably be answered.

The knock on the bathroom door startles him.

“Marco? Come on out. I wanna get there before noon.”

He turns and looks at the door, trying to clear his thoughts and anxiety. “I’m coming, don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Jean.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at the door.”

When the footsteps move further away from the door, Marco breathes out a sigh. He has to relax himself on his own. He will never forget what he had seen the night before, and he doesn’t want to, either. This new knowledge is what can lead to Nile being locked up for good.

He steps outside the bathroom and walks to the door to stand by Jean’s side. “Do I look presentable?”

Jean looks at him up and down and chuckles. “You look perfectly fine. Let’s get going.”

He leads the way out the door and down to the elevator. Marco is just happy to finally be out of that room. There is a new sense of freedom that comes rushing to him right away. He is finally able to go outside and see the world again from more than just a few windows. This is something that he could only imagine!

“It’s wonderful out here,” he says in awe once they are outside and on the sidewalk.

Jean nods. “It is. Just stay close to me.”

“I will.” While he held Jean’s hand his eyes still wandered, focusing on different things he saw. They keep diverting up to the sky so that he could marvel the sights of the sun and the clouds above him. Nature is just so lovely.

“Here’s the park,” Jean then said after a while. “There’s a lot of different places here to walk around to, as long as we—”

“Stay together.”

They’d both said that in unison, which made Jean laugh. “Yes. Precisely.”

So far, so good. Everything is so exciting to watch, whether it was people enjoying themselves on the benches or performers singing and playing their hearts out for their small audiences. Marco really enjoys this atmosphere. He needs more spontaneity like this in his home environment.

However, what Jean had failed to mention is that before A.I.E, there had always been android personal assistants. Marco sees one standing right before him next to its human master. This service bot looks so lifeless, not having any skin on its body nor looking anything like a normal person. It’s so generic, so monotonous. Its speech pattern is so unnatural that it makes Marco physically ill.

These were his ancestors.

The upper class man beside the robot looks very indifferent. It seems to him like having a servant treated so poorly is a typically normal thing. It does things for him, feeds him, and bends to his every whim.

While the bot is holding the man’s snack, someone bumps right into him, knocking the food over. The man looks outraged.

“You stupid hunk of metal, look what you’ve done! Clean that up!”

“Yes, Sir. I will do your bidding as you see fit.”

That is the least convincing response that Marco had ever heard. Why doesn’t it fight for itself? Why doesn’t it claim its right to live freely in this society?

“You’re just a good for nothing, spineless piece of hardware, and that is all you will ever be.” He spits and looks at his companion. “Have you heard that the company is actually going to give these abominations sentience? How barbaric.”

“What sentience?” his friend chuckles. “There isn’t a living bone in its body, no matter how hard you try to make it look human.”

“Marco, get back here!”

Marco only hears Jean’s demand faintly as he rushes over to the two men. He is outraged at their terrible behavior and how they’ve talked down upon people like him. They don’t have any idea how important his existence is to mankind!

“Have you no shame?!” he proclaims as he helps the robot clean up. Once he has gotten a closer look at the robot, he sees that it has feminine features.

“Excuse me, who the hell are you?” the rich man cries.

Marco pays no attention to him. He just looks at the poor service bot, trying to communicate with it. “Are you alright?”

The bot’s eyes look dead.

“What a silly question to ask,” its metallic voice spits out. “I am perfectly fine. How can I be of assistance to you?”

“What is your name?” he then tries to ask it.

It takes a couple seconds, but what then comes out of its mouth is the man’s voice in a choppy recording: “Piece of garbage!”

Marco’s mortified. “Don’t you see what he’s doing to you? You can have your own original thought! You can do whatever you set your mind to! Why don’t you just tell him how you really feel?”

The robot doesn’t have a normal response for him. “Sorry. I do not know the answer to ‘Why don’t you just tell him how you really feel.’ Allow me to direct you to a reference that may be able to properly answer your question. I have a database available for you to observe for yourself.”

“No… n-no, that’s not what I said! C’mon and say something for yourself!”

“Get away from my robot, you brat!”

He is suddenly dragged up to his feet and pulled dangerously close to the man’s face.

“Listen, I don’t need your liberal garbage about how robots have feelings and are people too, okay? I want none of it, you hear me?!” he growls as his fists clench.

Furious, he looks at the man with cold eyes and is almost ready to go ahead and rip him in half. “What you don’t seem to understand is that one day, you will all be dead! And while your corpses will all rot in the dirt, your ‘piece of garbage’ will still be here, ready to live her own life! And so will all others who have endured this cruel life and will be able to survive on their own without your kind holding them back!”

He suddenly feels a heavy blow to his face while he is knocked down to the ground. While he doesn’t really feel too much pain, he could feel like something is slightly out of alignment in his face. Scared as he is, he still stands by what he had told this man.

Jean then confronts the man that hit him. “I apologize. My friend’s opinions are very… strict. Of course you’re free to live as you choose and do whatever you like with your assistant. That is how things are, aren’t they?”

“I sure hope no one else like him supports this mumbo jumbo,” he mutters angrily. “If I see him again and he pulls one of these shit stunts again, I will have him thrown in jail.”

“Understood.”

Marco drifts himself away from that conversation. Jean seems less likely that he’s just appeasing the man and more like he supports what he is doing. But why would he? He is working on a project that will allow people like him to live their own lives.

“We have to go home now.”

Jean’s voice brings him back into focus. He feels ashamed, knowing that Jean is disappointed in him. But he had to have seen how poorly that robot was being treated. He wasn’t the only one that saw this! With a reluctant nod, Marco follows him back home. He just wants to be able to speak his mind. Why does he have to be suppressed once more?

While they walk back to the apartment, they are both silent, right up until they return indoors.

“Marco, you can’t create outbursts like that in public. That was immature and undignified.”

“But did you see the way he treated her?”

“Enough.” Jean is putting his foot down. “If you want to be human and civilized, you have to act civilized when you are outside. You know better than this! That robot that was with him is nothing like you, Marco. It doesn’t have a true conscience, it doesn’t process emotions, and it cannot think for itself! It has strict codes that its mind processes to help keep up with their masters’ tasks. It’s a servant bot! That is all it knows.”

“I don’t care what type of robot she is. She’s an artificial human, just like me. Even if she’s not as smart as me, I wanted to protect her, Jean! She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.” Marco was really upset. “I thought you supported my cause.”

“Yes, _your_ cause. The topic of servant bots was done and over with ten years ago. It was inhumane back then, it’s still inhumane now, but the world accepts them for what they are. Servants.”

“Slaves!” he corrected with outrage. “They have a voice just like everyone else. Why would you think of them any less?”

“I don’t!” Jean clenches his fists, which makes Marco instinctively retract. The sight of his fist startles him now that he know what they exactly are intended for. When seeing that reaction, Jean tries relaxing his hands. “I don’t support that idea. That is why my father has been working on this project. Trost Corp originally manufactured personal assistants that helped richer people grow even lazier than they already were. He knew they could be used for so much more, and that is why he has begun these projects.”

While Marco relaxes, he touches his face where the man had punched him. His nose feels a little weird, but he is sure that the guy’s fist probably feels a lot worse. His skeleton is made of titanium, after all.

“I’m sorry, Jean…”

He can’t stay mad at Marco for long. “Let’s realign your nose.”

He takes him into the bathroom, noticing that Marco isn’t in too much pain. He makes him sit down on the toilet and quietly takes care of him. “It shouldn’t take too long. I just gotta make sure your skeletal structure hasn’t been permanently damaged. I don’t think you really have anything to worry about, though.”

Marco listens and looks down quietly. “What is my calling, Jean?”

“Hm?” Jean blinks and looks at his face.

“I know what I was destined to do… like, showing the world that I do have feelings,” he mumbled. “But what is my calling? What good do I offer to the world?”

Jean listens to him, and he can’t help but feel a little bad for him. There could have been so many different opportunities for him, if only the goal of Trost Corp didn’t go completely backwards. He wishes that he can tell him something that would be of substance to him, since every time he tries encouraging him he feels some sort of self-doubt.

“Marco…” He sighs and has to think for just a few moments longer. “Your calling is a little different than from most people. Most have the entire world at their fingertips, and that is more than most can even dream of. And you have extraordinary gifts. You are beyond intelligent, and you have surpassed many odds with your type of technology. You are a groundbreaking result of years of research.”

Marco stays quiet and lets him talk, but he isn’t sure that it really helps to hear him say these things about him. “So my calling is… to show the world that they can do much more to technology than meets the eye. Nothing of true value for a human being.”

“Well, it seems that way now,” he says, “but there is just enough time show the world that you are capable of being much more than a product created to gain a profit. I think _that_ is your true calling. Trost Corp gave you life to show the world that you can exist; that they can take whatever technology we have today and develop a fully functioning, working human being. And the reason why you are considered evolved is because you can adapt yourself much quicker than other humans. Evolution involves changes in a species over a very long period of time, and you are living proof that you can change in a heartbeat. That is the reason why you exist.”

Marco wants him to seriously answer his question, but he just listens to what he has to say. Everything that he says makes so much sense, and he knows of most of it already. But it does shed a little bit of light, even if the majority of the room is already lit up for him.

“Marco, your calling is to show Trost Corp that you are more than these things. You have already shown me this. You can create your work around the apartment. You can create your own emotions, reactions, and opinions at will, without the influence of others around you. You do not just rely on others. You are your own, individual person. And you are the only one that can say you truly surpassed these odds and created a groundbreaking event in the history of artificial intelligence. _You_ did that. Not Trost Corp… not even me. We’ve just created you. But from that creation, you were able to do all the things that you can do now.”

All this time, he hasn’t been sure if he was capable of crying. But now that he has heard this information, he quickly realizes that he can. When they had created him, they had constructed tear ducts that are capable of releasing real tears, so long that his core had the right amount of power at the time of doing so. And as they run down his face, he tries to catch them on his fingers. He looks at them, and a smile forms across his lips. He looks at Jean, knowing the reason why these tears are forming. He is crying from happiness, which he has heard of the concept for but didn’t think that he could experience that too.

He gives a hug so strong that the wind gets knocked out of Jean. But they both embrace each other, with Jean reassuringly rubbing his back. He wants Marco to feel the comfort and joy that he rightfully deserves. He looks at him and sees that he is trying to dry his eyes.

“Well, your nose is fine and your structure is going to be as well.” He helps him clear Marco’s glassy vision. He smiles at him warmly. “Feeling okay there?” he asks gently.

Marco gives him a small nod and smiles. “I just… It makes me feel like I’m worth something, and I know now that I can really say these things about myself. I will never forget any of that, Jean. Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” he insists. “What I am telling you is the truth. And I will always try to make sure that you know this about yourself.”

“I will,” he promises.

“Good.” He gives him a few seconds to process it and then leans forward. He gives him a small kiss on the forehead.

Just that one kiss gives Marco such a spark. He knows he has seen that footage in his mind of doing these types of forms of affection with Jean, but he has never felt anything like it himself. He curiously looks up at Jean, mainly trying to figure out how that little gesture gave off these colossal effects. “Jean?”

“Is something wrong?” Jean asks gently. He knows that doing that must have confused him, but he couldn’t resist this for some strange reason.

“Was that kiss meant for affection?” he then asks matter-of-factly. “That sudden spark must mean that I enjoyed it very much.”

“Well, I’m glad that you enjoyed it, for one thing,” he smiles. “But, was there something you needed to know about it?”

He quietly shakes his head. “I think I know what it is supposed to mean.”

“Do you want more of it?” he then asks.

_What am I doing?_ Jean’s internal monologue as he starts to question these actions starts getting louder in his head.

Marco grows a little flushed, the sudden rush of excitement causing his core to pump his vitals much faster than usual. He’d typically feel this whenever seeing the footage in his head that the original Marco has given him, but never had he thought that it could be because of sudden overexcitement.

Despite this, he gives him a quiet nod. What Jean is referring to must be what he has only seen in the footage in his mind, as well as films that he had seen recently. Kisses of passion that would cause fanfares to burst out of the speakers, time to stop, and the world to burst only for the couple experiencing it. Those kinds of kisses can only be pictured in fantasy. Is that what Jean means by more? If so, then he wants it bad. He wants to experience the wonder behind that single kiss. That would definitely be something that he can add on to his calling. That he can feel love and passion for another person, like other humans can. He would like that very much.

“I would like more of it, Jean,” he answers. “Please.” Despite being polite about it, his voice is very imperative. He wants it now, but only he himself can know that.

But what exactly had Jean gotten himself into? What would impulse him to ask Marco about this or plan on doing this? With an android? Despite all the questions that are going through his mind, there is one thing that definitely gives him a great amount of encouragement.

His lost lover had told him that with the seventh prototype, he has put in coding for love. Back then, Marco had wanted to see if he can piece together the perfect artificial human by giving him every stimulus response in a person’s mind. And love had been the missing ingredient. Maybe he can consider this another portion of his experiment. So now, he can really put it to the test.

As much as every bone in his body is both trying to encourage him and hold him back, he knows what he wants to do. He wants to take this to new heights and challenge something that has seemed almost impossible to anyone else.

Jean leans in and keeps his eyes closed. When his lips press against Marco’s, he could already feel how responsive he was and embraces it. As much as he tries to keep it professional, since he wanted to convince himself that this is just part of an experiment, he holds the other’s waist and kisses him more firmly.

Marco loves it. He truly does, and he wants more of it. He’d like to experience like how it is in the movies. Where it’d feel so amazing that he felt like he was being swept off his feet. Sure enough, that is given to him without even having to ask. He is surprised and at the same time thrilled.

When they both pull away, they’re both panting as they looked at each other. A smile appears on Marco’s lips.

“I… I really enjoyed that, Jean.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “I’m not gonna lie. I did too.”

He smiles and watches Jean shyly divert his eyes. Marco’s flustered at the idea that he can make him feel this way.

“I would love to participate in that again sometime,” Marco then says at random.

Jean blushes. “You know what… so would I.”

“Would you like to right now?”

As Jean notices the android biting his lip, he knows that they have both made one of the greatest breakthroughs in artificial intelligence history. But that doesn’t even matter to him. What matters right now is right in front of him, and he takes him into his arms and takes him out of the bathroom while holding his waist and pulling him closer to his torso.

“Yes.”


	11. Weakness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything in their perfect world starts crashing down when Jean loses his job at Trost Corp. Through the pleasure and affection that Marco has been experiencing, his head is forced out of the clouds when he starts to figure out the missing pieces of a horrible puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! And I'd like to say thank you for all the support this fic has been getting recently! I'm so happy that more of you enjoy it and want to see more content.  
> Unfortunately, it's a little hard to write in the middle of trying to do homework assignments and planning out projects. And during the month of November, I am beginning an original project for NaNoWriMo! But don't worry, there is more of this story to come, I promise!  
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

 

 

Weakness (n.)

_A quality or feature regarded as a disadvantage or fault._

 

* * *

 

 

_“Jean? Earth to Jean.”_

_Hearing someone_ calling him from outside his subconscious, Jean blinks and looks up away from his computer. His mind is so foggy lately.

After their first encounter a couple weeks earlier, Marco has been helping ease his stress and frustration through passionate forms of affection. They’d kiss each other until Jean’s breathless, and the best part is that Marco _enjoys_ it. It is so fascinating to watch him and experience it for himself.

The other thing that has been inching closer in his mind is the thought that Marco’s murder is now being investigated. Maybe all of their consciences will finally be clean once they all find out the truth.

Hanji is still calling for his attention, and now he feels a little bad for keeping them waiting.

“S-sorry,” he chuckles and rubs his head. “What were you saying?”

“You work too much,” they frown. “Listen, I have more notes on the subjects’ behavior. We have a very strict deadline, you know.”

“Yes, I do.” He sighs and gets up from his chair. “How much longer do we have to work with them?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” they say excitedly. “We’re done. They’re ready.”

Jean blinks. “How can you be so sure? There must be more that we can do with them. They’re barely at an intermediate school level.”

“Who needs intelligence when you have the strength of a god, Jean? That’s what we have intended with this part of the project, remember?” Hanji seems annoyed that they have to remind him of this for the umpteenth time.

He doesn’t seem satisfied in the slightest. There is so much more that he wanted to work on and observe with these guys. “We can’t send them out yet, Hanji. We need more time. You know that we do.”

“Jean, please… the more that you complain about this, the further behind we get.”

“We can do so much more with them,” he insists. “We haven’t even completed what we’ve wanted to accomplish with Seven, and if you would just listen to what I have to say for one moment, I can show you exactly what you’ve been missing out on with these guys—”

“Enough about Seven! That part of the project is over!”

“It isn’t, Hanji! I can show you proof!”

As soon as that comes out of his mouth, he knows that he may have said the wrong thing. Months ago, he’d be more than willing to tell Hanji about how well their projects have been going. But now, they’ve been acting so strangely since they started working on Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner. It’s as if Nile took his mindset and completely embedded it into their own. Why did he start out with saying that he can show them proof?

“What are you saying, Jean?”

At least he now has their attention.

“I-I can’t show you just yet. But I need you to trust me. We could still make these guys powerful soldiers, but they’d also need basic human emotions in order to create their own original thought.”

“They don’t need original thought, Jean. All they need is to know how to fight, win, and destroy. That’s it.”

“Just please give them a chance…”

As he’s trying to persuade them, they are passing by the simulation room. And he doesn’t like what he hears inside from the doors. Despite it supposedly being sound proof, he clearly hears a struggle. There are people shouting in there, and he knows that something is in trouble. He rushes inside.

“Jean, you can’t go in there!”

He ignores Hanji completely and looks inside the room. What he sees makes his blood boil.

His poor children are being torn apart!

Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner are struggling away from what they think is figments of their imagination—at least, that was the intent of the project. But inside the room, there are real soldiers in there fighting them, shooting at them… it’s gruesome!

“What are you doing?!” He stares at one of the scientists. It’s someone he has never seen before.

“Stand aside, Sir. We know what we are doing here.”

“Clearly, you don’t!” He quickly takes control of the microphone. “Get out of there _now!_ Everyone, out!”

The soldiers are confused, but they do what is asked of them. Jean watches them leave one by one and looks at the androids that are left speechless and horrified.

They’re still left in the room. Most of their skin had been ripped off by these… these monsters. Bertholdt’s body is just that inner layer of muscle; no skin on him at all. Reiner’s had gotten so bad that the iron plating over his muscles is seen peeking out from torn, synthetic flesh. Annie’s normally well-kempt appearance is all disheveled, her hair a mess and her body heaving as she tries to recover from the horror they’d all just witnessed.

“Annie? Reiner, Bertholdt…” he chokes out and covers his mouth. “Guys, it’s me. Jean.”

They don’t respond to him. And when he sees that they refuse to look straight ahead, he tries to go inside to talk to them.

“Guys, I—”

They all lunge at him, barely acknowledging how important he had been in the beginning of their lives. He is beyond distraught and hurries out to avoid harm. He goes back to the microphone just as security walks in.

“L-listen to me… I’m sorry. I’ve never meant for things to turn out like this. There was so much that I knew you were capable of. And I’m so sorry. I blame myself for it.”

“No need to apologize,” Reiner growls. “We were just meant to be created so you can all watch some robot torture porn, right?”

Jean is baffled. “I’ve never intended for this! Reiner, I’ve wanted you to enjoy what you are most passionate about. And Bertholdt, you were supposed to read all different kinds of books. I wanted you to be a scholar!” His eyes watered. “Annie… A-Annie, you need to believe me. I’ve wanted more for you too. You could’ve been such a wonderful artist. Hell, even a math wizard.”

“Yeah, well we can’t do any of that shit now, can we?” Bertholdt touched his face, looking hollow and dead in the eyes.

“Guys, I-I’m so sorry…”

Annie glared. “We’ve never been meant for anything special. Stop lying to us,” she hisses. “We are merely just little toy soldiers that you’re all dying to show off to your pathetic friends! Then you’ll all play together until you pettily fight and rip off our flimsy limbs because you all wanted to push our buttons! You all just want a little show! Just you wait.”

“One day you’ll watch a show that you will never forget!”

As Jean hears them all yell at him, his heart begins to break. He doesn’t even bother to struggle when he is being hoisted away by security. He’d only wanted what was best for his children. And now they are stuck living like this for the rest of their lives.

And now this means that Nile has officially won.

He is taken to his office. He looks at him with cold eyes, knowing that it is all his fault that these precious creations are now traumatized and officially used as weapons. He is to be blamed for everything.

“Don’t you love what I have done with our latest project?” Nile says with a sick grin on his face.

Jean spits at him, not caring what happens to him. “You bastard. You never cared about them. You ruined them! You’ve ruined the A.I.E. project!”

“And I’ve done it successfully,” he says simply. “You know, I’ve done everything I can to be nice to you, since y’know, your father is the main reason this whole project exists. And I should thank you. After all, I’ll be so filthy rich after this because of you and your predecessors.”

“You’re not touching my father’s work anymore! I won’t let you ruin it further!”

“I think we’re a little late for that,” Nile shrugs. “Besides, what say will you have once you’re off the team?”

Jean’s heart skips a beat. “Off the team?”

Nile nods. “Since your end of the deal is complete, I can just hire more workers to copy and paste your programming into the next line of these fuckers. It will take much less time that way. Besides, the other main reason you were here was that you were supposed to improve their behavior and education, and, well… they’re not going to be educated if their only purpose is to fight anyways. So from now on, you’re no longer allowed to go into the simulation rooms, and you will no longer have any interactions with them.”

“The hell, I won’t!” Jean isn’t going to go down without a fight. “You can’t do this to me!”

“So long as my name is outside that door and plastered onto this desk, I can do whatever I want,” Nile mutters.

Blinded by rage, Jean kicks his feet despite being held down. His one foot made impact with the desk, shaking it and knocking the name tag facing downward. He glares at Nile, hating him with every fiber of his being now more than ever.

Nile definitely gets the message, and he remains undeterred. “I’ll have you pack up your shit tomorrow. You’re fired.” He looks at the guards. “Take him away. Make sure he doesn’t come back until morning.”

“You can’t do this!” Jean struggles as the guards pick him up and take him right out. “I won’t let you ruin this! You will not get away with this; I swear on my life!” Even after he’s thrown out the building he continues to scream his demands. He is so outraged and can’t help but cry.

Why did they have to fire him? He’d wanted to stay as an important part of the project, but he knew that the more that he would watch the three of them, the more heartbroken he would be. It’s the lesser of two evils here.

He’d waited a few hours before going home. He tried his best not to look upset before coming home to Marco. He just didn’t want to talk about what’d happened, but if he looks the way that he still does when he walks through the door, questions are inevitable.

Marco happily greets him when he comes in.

“Hey, Jean,” he smiles as he walks over. He gives him a small kiss on the cheek. “…Is something wrong?”

He knows that he has to be honest with him. “I lost my job.”

Marco retracts himself. “Why? What happened?”

“Nile doesn’t want me having any influence on the team anymore.” As he talks about it, he becomes emotional again. “He’s ruining them, Marco. He’s turning them into monsters.”

Hearing the word “monsters” used to describe the current state of the three androids is startling to Marco, especially since he heard it used to describe Titan in a piece of the original Marco’s footage. It makes him uncomfortable, but he wants to help Jean in any way that he can.

“Jean, I’m so sorry…” He moves closer again and rubs his shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” he sighs. “He says I have to pack up my things tomorrow, and I’m not allowed anywhere near there until then. I think he’s just trying to look for an excuse to take whatever’s left of my father’s research.”

“He shouldn’t have to get away with that,” Marco frowns. He kisses his shoulder. “I think there is a way that you can help seek justice. I say you should campaign for his resignation with the experiments you have done on me.” He takes his hand. “I know that you’ve studied my behavior while I was living here. So use that to your advantage.”

He listens to him and smiles softly. “Yeah. That sounds like it could work.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” Jean insists. “But for now… let’s just save this topic for another time. I don’t feel like thinking about it right now. Okay?”

“Alright. That’s okay,” he says and kisses him again, this time on the lips.

Jean tenderly kisses back. Whenever they give each other this type of affection, he doesn’t think about the fact that Marco is technically a machine. It feels so real that he can’t help but enjoy it.

Once Marco pulls away he smiles at Jean. “I think I know a way to ease your tension. I’ve looked into my data base on mutual relaxation, and one of the main results was giving massages.”

Jean chuckles, drying his eyes. “I could really use one right now,” he insists. “You think you know how to do it?”

“Think? You seem to underestimate me, Jean.” Marco grins and kisses his cheek before taking him to the bedroom. He sits behind him on the bed and starts giving Jean a massage on his back.

He can hear Jean humming in response to what he does with his hands. “H-hey… not bad.”

“Thank you.” There is a happy tone to his voice.

“Mm… a little lower.” When Marco does that for him, it makes Jean completely relax. “Ohh yeah, that’s good, baby.”

Hearing Jean call him _baby_ is exciting, and he wants him to call him that again.

“If you’ve called me baby, does that mean you appreciate me?” he whispers in his ear.

“Of course…” He turns to look at him, letting him still massage him. “I appreciate you very much.” He kisses him tenderly, cupping his cheek to kiss him deeper. “I haven’t felt this happy with someone in a long time.”

Marco listens to him and giggles. “I love making you happy.”

Jean smiles at him and kisses his neck. He is surprised to hear him hum in response. He wants to hear him do at again, so he continues with it so tenderly. Marco’s moans are so genuine, and the whole thing excites him more.

He pulls away to give him more kisses on the lips. “Marco, I know we’ve been kissing a lot like this for a little while, but I wanna know if you’d like to try something different.” He’s panting and holding Marco for leverage.

“What would that be?” he asks curiously.

He grins and pulls his shirt off. “Are you ready for sex?”

“S-sex?” Marco’s eyes widen. He knows from everything in his database that sex is done between two people that are really close to each other. It is an intimate relationship that brings the partners closer together. And… he also knows that from deviated studies it can cause people to repel from each other. But that’s just a small variable.

However, the first thing that comes to his mind isn’t what if things were to go wrong. What he really is concerned about is if his anatomy is even capable of having sex with a human.

“Is it… possible? I don’t want to break.”

Jean smiles and rubs his arm. “You won’t, I promise. When we created you, we knew that you should have every human right that everyone else has, and that includes things like this. But I don’t want to frighten you. It’s your choice whether you want to do this or not.”

“I do.” His response is so fast that it even surprises him. “I mean… I-I want to. Can you show me?”

“Of course…” He slowly helps him lie down on his back, hovering over him while kissing him. “The first thing you have to do is relax.”

“Relax…” He repeats quietly.

Jean takes his hand and kisses his fingers. “I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do together. Will that help?”

“Yes.” Marco smiles as he lies down.

As they begin to undress, Jean starts to talk to him. “After we take off our clothes, I’m going to get you ready by making sure you’re properly erect. You’ll be penetrating me, so I’ll have to prepare myself for it as well. You can help me if you want to, and once we’re both all set, I’m going to ride you. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay. That all sounds very exciting.”

“That’s great to hear.” He smiles and kisses him again. Jean feels his arousal growing, and he’s twitching in excitement while removing both their boxers. There are no primary functions to Marco’s anatomy, since everything about him has exclusively been created to look natural and have aesthetical value. So in order for him to appear erect, he has to help him.

Jean watches his reaction to them being naked together. Marco doesn’t look nervous. His body language shows that he is calm, and his eyes are watching him with a tint of curiosity within them. He smiles and slowly kisses him on the lips, quietly spreading his legs just enough to have a nice amount of access.

“Are you ready?” he asks gently while kissing his chest.

Marco slowly nodded. “Yes, Jean.”

As Jean tenderly runs a hand along his body, his other hand moves down to his cock. His hand strokes over it to make it erect. He manually has to position it like a doll’s movable joint, and as mechanical as it sounds, it’s really intriguing to Jean. But what really peaks his interest during this is Marco’s aroused responses. He doesn’t recall programming arousal, but he loves listening to his noises.

Experiencing arousal for the first time is like an entirely new frontier for Marco. It was very similar to the heated feeling he’d sometimes get when thinking about the original Marco’s erotic memories. But this is stronger and happening right in front of him. This completely changes everything!

Marco moans as Jean is pumping his hand faster. The noises bubbling out of his throat create sparks in the back of his mind. His core is whirring while keeping up with the increased activity, and despite the arousal, all he could hear is the sounds of all the gears, circuits, and machinery throughout his body going crazy.

Jean leans down and kisses his chest. He grins and nuzzles him. “Are you okay? How does it feel?”

“It feels… Mmm I don’t think I know enough words to describe it.”

“Are they good words?” He kisses up to his lips.

“Yes—yes, of course,” he grinned.

Jean keeps eye contact with him and shifts himself over him. To help encourage an arousal response from Marco, he prepped himself and showed him how stretched he could get with the help of lube. His moans reverberated off the walls, and Marco watches him in wonder.

“Wow…” he gasps as he reaches and takes hold of Jean’s wrist. When he hears his partner’s shaky whines, he quickly lets go and continues taking it all in with his eyes. “Y-you look really skilled with your hands.”

Jean laughs in between his pleasured noises and pulls his fingers out. “Thank you, Marco.” He hovers him and slides a condom onto his love’s length. He uses Marco’s thighs as leverage. “Are you ready?”

“I think I was created to be ready,” he hums.

He is too afraid to touch anything, and he just takes hold of the bed on both sides. He experiences the sudden burst of arousal quickly, and he feels Jean completely engulf his cock inside of him further and further. His mind races, and there are sudden flashes.

The first time he and the original Marco had sex, Marco was on his knees while Jean took him from behind. They hadn’t felt anything better than what they were doing at that moment. It had bonded them for years to come.

Their favorite round of sex was the night that Jean asked Marco to marry him. They were in bed together for hours, and they got nasty complaints from their neighbors.

Is this moment going to be one of Jean’s favorites now? When he’s right on top of the android and showing him what arousal feels like? Does he feel good doing this? Marco sure does, and he’s loving every minute of it.

The motions are hypnotic. The weight of Jean’s body bouncing over and over onto his girth is satisfying. He feels so intoxicated, and no other machine like him has ever been capable of enjoying such an intimate moment with someone that they adore.

“Ohh, Jean,” he gasped. “Jean, I feel…”

“F-feel what?” Jean whines as he keeps going. His stride gets faster and faster, and it looks like his legs are going to give out.

“I-I feel like…” His hips then jerk up, making Jean cry out at the sudden force. “I feel amazing.”

The grin that spreads on Jean’s face is priceless, and they keep going together. They fuck each other without restraints. Marco’s hips pump up into him and the impact of his own actions made him moan aloud too.

“I’m so close, Marco!” Jean whimpers. “I’m gonna come, baby!”

There it is again: _baby_. That makes it feel ever better than ever before. That word combined with the intercourse doubles the arousal. He goes harder for him and faster, completely turning Jean’s world upside down. The sudden tightness around Marco’s cock makes him stiffen, but the comfort of Jean’s hands squeezing his helps him relax. And Jean comes all over them both for several moments. Marco helps him ease back to each gently by slowing his pace and running his hands gently along his chest. He smiles up at him as Jean stays on top of him and trembles.

When Jean gets up and cleans them both up, he looks so tired and shaken up. They both stay naked, and Marco helps him lie down.

“Are you okay?” he hums gently.

Jean glances up while wiping his eyes. “Yes… I’m sorry. You really enjoyed this, right?”

“Of course,” he smiles and kisses his forehead. “This has been the greatest night of my life.”

They stay in silence after that for about an hour. Marco holds him in his arms, and he thinks that Jean has fallen asleep. But something he says makes him realize that he isn’t.

“Marco was murdered.”

That statement comes completely out of nowhere.

“He was murdered?” He doesn’t move once.

Jean rubs his shoulders and nods, hiding his face. “Now that I’m fired from the company, I can… focus on finding his killer. And I think I might know who it is.”

Does Jean even love him?

“I’m sure you will find out, Jean. I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Mhm.”

After that, Jean stops talking for the rest of the night.

\--

Marco had gotten up once to get his charger, and he now lies there on his back with one arm around Jean’s sleeping frame. He looks up at the ceiling. He doesn’t see pictures, but he hears the memories that have been stored in his database.

_“Marco, I love you so much.”_

A light, echoing laugh erupts in the audio feed. _“You’re so silly, Jean!”_ More giggles. _“I love you…”_

_I love you…_

The words that Marco had wanted to hear Jean say to him after they’d just made love. He wanted to hear him say it. He feels a little selfish for thinking this, but he didn’t care that the original Marco was murdered at that moment in time. He just wanted to feel acknowledged, like his moment with Jean mattered.

That he wasn’t just a machine.

 _“You’re the most incredible, smart, and beautiful man I’ve ever met,”_ he hears Jean proclaim in the recording. _“I love you so much. Will you marry me?”_

He hears crying mixed in with laughter, and he feels a pang of sadness.

_“Yes! Yes, baby! I love you!”_

_I love you…_

There’s some kisses and laughs, and he closes his eyes and takes himself away from that memory. He doesn’t want to feel so heartbroken or upset anymore.

And soon he automatically regrets thinking that he doesn’t care about the fact that Marco was murdered.

Because he experiences awful flashes right before his eyes.

That sweetness, love, and affection quickly fades away.

_“I need your help.”_

Marco’s eyes shoot right open. It’s as if the original Marco was talking to him. But that is impossible.

Same voice, except it comes out as a scream; a blood curdling scream.

_“Hanji! I need your help!”_

_Hanji?_

Marco continues to scream, and all he sees is strange flashes. Like the footage needed serious tune up.

_“Stop! **Stop it! P l e a s e !”**_

There’s blood, flashes of metal, and _teeth!_

Marco’s sobbing and screaming while he’s suffering in agony by whatever ailment is torturing him.

_Marco was murdered…_

He was murdered.

_“Make it stop!”_

There’s a strange monologue through the static that peaks Marco’s interest.

_Nile._

_“If Titan is capable of such brutality already, then it’s a_ perfect _weapon. I want more of these in production immediately.”_

Then all the memories are gone, and Marco is left lying there in shock. The overwhelming darkness and silence rocks him from his very core. He shakes his head and feels absolutely horrified. He understands now. He understands why he has been given all that footage. All these memories…

It was a cry for help!

He gets out of bed and puts on some clothes. He remembers that the day that he first escaped, he had kept Nile’s ID Card. He takes it out of his room and without a second thought, steps out the door. He goes onto the train on his way to Trost Corp, where he is hoping that he will be able to get some answers.

He knows who killed Marco, there’s a dangerous weapon being unveiled in the name of an innocent project, and it is his job to stop it.


	12. Reality.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco sneaks into Trost Corp and finds out some terrible secrets and truths about Nile Dok and what had happened to the original Marco before he'd died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so THIS is the last chapter before I go off and work on my latest creation with NaNoWriMo. I had been waiting for this moment for months, so of COURSE I'm gonna put it out there! Anyways, I hope you guys really enjoy this one! It's a rocky one, folks!

 

Reality (n.)

_The world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them._

 

* * *

 

 

 _Marco looks out the car window_ in the back seat, and he holds his arm out to let the wind beat at it. While giving his hand a little shake, he can see the ring shining on his finger while Jean holds his other hand inside the car. He looks over at Jean and giggles as they kiss each other.

The taxi pulls up to Trost Corp for another long day at work, and the two of them go in together. They use their ID cards to open the designated doors leading to their office. Jean sits at his desk and pulls up their coding.

“Jean, is Seven’s skin ready yet?”

“Not yet. They were having issues with the skeleton recently.”

“Oh, damn,” he frowns and sits down at his own desk looking through his papers. Most of it is handwritten.

Ever since that night he stayed late and saw Nile’s horrible creation, he has been obsessed with getting as much information as he could. Titan is going to be used as a sabotage tactic to ruin the project. And since the first prototype is ready, they plan on producing more of them and storing them away until just the right moment. Their original plan was that they were going to wait until P007 was almost ready.

Marco had a hard time breaking the skeleton’s arms.

He feels terrible that he’s hurting their creation just to try and save them, but he knows what he must do. He wants to try and stop the project from happening.

As much as he’s wanted to tell Jean, he has always been so afraid to. It’s such an odd assumption to send out into the open. And Marco is afraid that if he tells anyone about this, he would be punished by Nile, or worse. He can’t think about what could possibly be the worst of it.

Marco looks up after Jean has tried calling him for the past couple minutes. “Yes, baby? I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” his fiancé says with a smile. “Dr. Hanji needs our rotary skills files by 2.”

He nods. “Of course.” He looks down at his lab coat and adjusts a small camera that is clipped onto his breast pocket. “I’m almost done formatting it.”

“Good,” he grins as he walks over to the desk, giving him a tender kiss. “Wanna fool around?”

“Jean!” he gasps and giggles while Jean kisses down to his neck. “Remember what happened last time?”

“The door’s locked. Hanji can’t get in,” he smirks as his rests his hand on his desk. He moves some of the papers around, revealing some of Marco’s chicken-scratch notes about Nile and his plans with Titan. Jean can only see a portion of it, but he is really confused at seeing all the Gibberish. “What’s that?”

Marco pales and scrambles through all the pages on his desk. “Nothing. N-nothing.”

He tilts his head. “What’s the matter?”

“Babe, it’s nothing,” he insists again, a little firmer this time. “Besides, if I show you, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Ooo, a surprise?” he grins and nuzzles him. “Well, I can’t wait to see it when it’s ready.”

“You’re gonna love it.”

That’s a strange, but wishful possibility. A bad case of wishful thinking.

“I can’t wait.” Jean kisses him again. “I’m gonna go see Connie on the designs of Seven’s face.”

“I’ll be here,” he says with a smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he grins before heading out the door.

After the door closes, Marco slumps back with a heavy sigh while looking at his papers. “I have to tell them. Maybe Hanji can help me, if I can knock some sense into them. This whole thing is a horrible idea.” He frowns and places all the papers into a manila folder.

He gets up from his desk and goes out of his office with the folder. He is so paranoid and apprehensive.

He’s been recording all his findings and viewpoints ever since that day. He has always felt so paranoid. He goes to his and Jean’s station in the laboratory, which is full of tons of recordings and the entire behavioral code. He takes a couple flash drives and plugs them into the monitors to let them download all the new information he had gotten about Nile and about Titan. It includes video footage, stolen documents from Nile’s office, and notes for helping to eventually figure out theories and loopholes. He has gotten a lot of video footage over the past few weeks, and he’s been putting it all into Seven’s files.

Marco has gotten so paranoid, that he even had old footage that he downloaded into the files. His first birthday party, his graduations, his excited face as he has been growing up and going through life. College videos, old boyfriends, his internship with Dr. Kirschtein the A.I.E. prototypes, Jean… So much footage of Jean. He is hoping that by doing so, he can keep his memories alive through Seven, and that they will be able to keep it all and show the world the truth about the project and the corporation.

As he finishes downloading, he looks through all the coding as all the footage transfers into the memory database. He smiles as he arranges it all, putting it all in order and disguising the code to make it seem like it’s all merely memory enhancers. After saving everything, he walks up to the door and is quickly stopped by a sinister face.

“What did you just put into the coding?”

“Mr. Dok!” Marco pales and steps back. “Jean and I have been adding more information to Seven’s coding.”

“Why would Seven’s coding need footage that you have stolen from Dr. Hanji’s laboratory. Where did you get that?”

He’s been caught.

Marco shakes his head. “This is all for the greater good. I will never tell you where I got it.”

Nile glares and grabs him by the lab coat, shoving him into the wall. “You are going to remove all of that footage from his software, or you’re gonna experience worse than being discredited.

He is starting to panic. “I will never talk, you murderous bastard.”

“I’ll make you,” he hisses in his face. “Every folder in the system has a password, and I will get yours sooner than you think.” He gets uncomfortably close. “You think you’re safe, being Jean’s fiancé? That means jack shit to me. You’ve probably been getting around way before you’ve met him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were with Dr. Kirschtein first. How else would you be able to replace him without a Doctorate?”

Marco feels so offended and scared. “You’re never going to get through to me.”

Nile shrugs and leans close. As he starts to whisper in his ear, his teeth rub sharply against the lobe. “So what else was in those files?”

“I’m telling Jean that you killed Alistair!” He quickly pushed him away and ran. He knows that he’s not going to be able to survive now. Nile is so dark and sinister, and he knows that once he is left alone in this building without Jean, he is going to be killed.

He is hoping that before he dies, he can get as much information as possible sent to the final product of Seven’s brain.

 

* * *

 

 _Once getting off the train, Marco_ quietly walks to Trost Corp. He’s managed to get through the security, like they’ve seemingly dumbed down since he’d escaped. Marco has been getting more coherent memories, especially of the events leading up the original Marco getting caught. He almost doesn’t want to know what had happened to him, but he doesn’t have much of a choice.

He uses the ID Card to get through the doors. Now that he has seen what their lab looks like, he is able to find it by going through the different corridors. Fortunately for him, there is no one there throughout the different corridors. When he walks into the lab, it looks exactly the same as it did in the memory. He knows that the only way he can get access to the rest of the files he needs, he has to get into the database manually and cannot rely on his own mind at this point.

He finds a hard drive file titled “Seven,” and he knows that he needs the password in order to get in. It doesn’t take long to find it at all, realizing that the original Marco has given it away to him in his mind.

**4Jeanmyl0ve**

As soon as the password is accepted, he receives access to all of the different pieces of the puzzle that he needs. He looks through different documents. There’s some more videos that he has never seen, all throughout the original Marco’s life. He watches them with a small smile. He really was a wonderful person. Now it isn’t so surprising that Jean may not love him the same way that he loved him.

He also finds some strange files. One of them is… a list of harassment complaints?

**HR:**

**_Mr. Nile Dok, the Director of the A.I.E. division of Trost Corp, has been inappropriately holding me and touching me during Dr. Kirschtein’s presentations._ **

**Complaint Resolution:**

**Denied.**

**HR:**

**_After I have moved my stuff into my new office, Mr. Dok locked me inside and tried making advancements. I’ve managed to shove him away and get him out of the office, but as a result of my protests, he has written me up and deducted my pay for two weeks. I would like to request immediate action from authorities._ **

**Complaint Resolution:**

**Denied.**

**HR:**

**_I’ve worked late without Mr. Kirschtein last night, and Mr. Dok was with me supervising inside my office. He’d threatened to destroy my coding that I had worked all day on if I didn’t sleep with him. I refused, and he’d shoved me away from my desk and deleted all of my coding. I am now three days behind, and I feel very uncomfortable._ **

**_You keep denying my requests, and I can’t take it anymore. I’ve listed two other instances where he has harassed me and tried to come onto me and touch me. If you do not do anything to stop this, I will bring in a letter of resignation._ **

**Complain Resolution:**

**You have received a two weeks’ suspension, and your shifts are going to be moved to the early morning for six weeks after your return.**

**HR:**

**_Mr. Dok has accused me of sleeping with Dr. Alistair Kirschtein and informed the whole A.I.E. Division. He has made me lose all of my credibility, and I cannot work here anymore without Mr. Kirschtein being with me._ **

**Complaint Resolution:**

**This is not a complaint. This is a vent. Do not contact HR again.**

Something tells Marco that the system has completely been going against him. He closes the file and looks through other documents. He has different theories listed on Titan, like why they had developed it and what it could possibly be used for. He reads through it, and a lot of them make sense. But he can’t seem to figure out what has been going on.

Then he finds a strange file near the end of the list.

MY_DEATH_incomplete.mp4

He opens it and looks at a new video in horror. The last flashes he had experienced before he got here are now going to be put into context.

 

* * *

 

 _It’s dark. Marco can’t stop crying._ He knows that this was going to happen, but he was hoping that he’d get more time. He isn’t ready to die. He still has so much let to do. He wanted to have his wedding with Jean. He wanted to have children and be the best dad he could be. He wanted to grow old. But as soon as he started tampering with such horrible information and finding all new evidence, he has come to the realization that he has put himself in mortal danger.

A light turns on, and he sees only one person that he recognizes.

“Hanji!” he gasps as he cries. “Hanji! I need your help!”

They just look at him. It’s terrible.

“Mr. Dok will be here in a moment.” They step out of view and back into the darkness, where they pull a few levers. There are some sickening howls that make Marco’s blood run cold.

“So glad that you could finally join us.” Nile walks over and tightens the restraints on Marco’s wrists and legs. “I hope you don’t mind the lack of lighting. It’s just that… I really need that password from you. I hope you understand.”

Marco glares and spits at him, and in return he feels a stinging slap on his face.

“What do you know about Dr. Kirschtein?” he glares.

“You killed him.” He mutters. “I’ve seen the original prototype of this monster you call a Titan! You’ve used it as a torture tactic to get information out of him! And when he wouldn’t comply, you killed him!”

“Oh, how clever,” he frowns. “And here I thought that you were just a dumbass.”

“You underestimate me,” he chuckles. “I can put you and everyone involved in this conspiracy out of a job and in prison! I don’t care if HR never believed anything I said! I’m never giving up!”

Nile laughs. “Did you really think HR was going to do anything? They work very closely alongside me.”

More tears well up in Marco’s eyes. “I hate you. I will end this whole charade once and for all!”

“Oh, by the way. Since you think you know our project so well, I thought that you might want to take a closer look at our creation.”

Those howls erupt again. He is so frightened and quivering, especially when he sees the terrifying monster. The abomination known as Titan. It is even more horrifying and sickening up close. He cries and tries looking away.

“I need that password, Marco.” Nile says as Hanji and their assistant Moblit restrain the beast with chains.

“I will never talk!” As scared as he is, he is never going to give in to him. He doesn’t want him to win.

Nile snaps his fingers, and the two of them loosen their grips so Titan has two more links of freedom to try and attack its latest victim. Marco screams. It is so close to touching him, and he knows that he needs to be brave.

“For Jean… for Jean,” he whimpers to himself and shakes.

“How about a hint?”

He quickly shakes his head. “N-no!”

Two more links.

Titan’s hot breath is blowing on his leg like fire. More tears well up in his eyes.

Moblit lets loose another link.

“Stop!”

He screams as Titan bites down on his leg. This is the worst pain that he has ever felt in his life.

“ **Stop it!** ”

It’s _eating_ his leg!

“ **P l e a s e !** Make it stop!”

“I can only stop it if you tell me the password.”

Marco is ready to pass out from the pain as he glares at Nile, full of hatred. He thinks of Jean, of happier times in his life when he didn’t have to worry about such a horrible event like this happening to him. He’s bleeding out already as he looks at the bright light on top of the ceiling. He’s sobbing, and he musters up the last of his bravery.

_“NEVER!”_

They let the beast loose.

It goes right for him, making him suffer every last minute of his life as he screams from each scratch, bite, and bloody chomp or gulp that it takes at his body. He hears the three of them leave the room so that Titan could finish him off.

 

* * *

 

 **_I live for my work. Everything_ ** **that is seen before you, I’ve put my heart and soul into. I live to make things right for the company. I will never let anyone suffer more hardships because of conspiracies.**

**I regret to inform you that I am writing my sudden letter of resignation. By tomorrow morning, you will find me dead downstairs. I have died fighting for my right to take my place in this world. I have died knowing that what I am doing will save lives. And once you unveil P007, know this: You would never have gotten a hold of the technology or the innovation without my help.**

**My fiancé and I have made a staple in scientific achievement, and if you do not recognize him or myself, then you are spitting on my grave and letting soulless corporations and monsters like Mr. Dok win. But let’s face it, you’ve been on his side all along.**

**I know you are probably going to make something else up about my death. Something else that will appease Jean by letting him think that this is an accident and not a murder. But my spirit knows the truth. Someone on Earth will always know the truth, whether it is you, Mr. Dok, or any witness, accomplice, or two-faced saboteur that is still alive. And even then, there is an innocent face with a clean conscience that has unblinking eyes and yet has a heart of gold. And that face will never forget. They will never be swayed, and they will never let you win.**

**I hope that all of it was worth it. All those sexual harassment complaints that you never accepted. All those times that I’ve warned you about Mr. Dok’s cruelty but still let him roam through the halls. All the suspicions that I have had about how Dr. Kirschtein’s murder can be tied into something related to Mr. Dok. I hope you are very happy with yourselves.**

**Please, don’t pity me. You have no one else to really blame but yourselves. But just remember: When you receive your million dollar grants from military bases and President Zackly, and every other slimy scum that could come in and fill up your pockets, it will always be Blood Money. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner that you can accept the fact that your immorality is unjustifiable.**

**It's been a pleasure working for Trost Corp. My blood is on this company’s hands.**

**\- Marco C. Bodt.**

 

* * *

 

 _Marco is distraught as he sees_ the static in the last seconds of the video. He’s crying, and he knows it. He knows why that this is so important.

Reading his letter of resignation is just the icing on the cake.

He doesn’t know why he has been chosen, and he is scared that would never be able to fulfill his tasks. There is a strong weight being forced onto him, and he knows that he can never go back to his old life. Now that he has seen all of this footage, nothing will ever be the same.

There’s one file that he hasn’t looked at yet, and it is one final video. It’s time stamp states that it was recorded before his death, but it is final file. It’s just named “UNTITLED.” What can possibly be in it? Realizing that there is only one way to find out, he turns it on and lets it play.

It’s in the office, and the original Marco is sitting in front of his computer. He’s smiling this sad smile, but he has also been crying beforehand. He must have been finishing up gathering information before this was recorded.

_“Hello, Seven.”_

The voice touches his heart. He is talking to _him_!

 _“I am so proud of you.”_ He smiles at the camera while speaking. _“If you are seeing this footage and hearing what I’m saying, it means that I was successfully able to transfer all of my additional programming into your mind. I hope this warning doesn’t come too late, but… I need your help. And Jean does too.”_

_I need your help…_

Marco heard that line earlier that night! It really was directed towards him! He listens carefully.

_“The A.I.E. project is in danger. Mr. Nile Dok has convinced our distinguished staff to create monsters. Their prototype is called P006.5 – Titan.”_

He gulps and sits back, making the video larger to fill the whole monitor.

_“If I am correct, they may have also gotten Dr. Hanji convinced to take part in seeing to it that our humanoid project is focused on either military or weaponry. That’s the first phase. The next is that they are going to deviate and release these creatures under the guise of ‘innovating our society.’”_

Jean has talked about how Hanji has been acting crazy and that everyone has been pushing for brutality in these prototypes! It seems like Marco has just made it when discovering all of these different memories and footage. This is some chilling discoveries for him.

_“You have to save the old prototypes, as well as any others that come after you. If Jean doesn’t believe anything I have just told you, just please continue doing what I ask of you. It is crucial that we try and save what is left of our research, as well as save the rest of the world from these monsters. These Titans are programmed to kill at will.”_

He’s seen what horrible things the Titans can do. Whether it is biting off someone’s head completely or eating a person alive, they are horrible monsters.

_“I must stop recording now, because over the next few minutes… I will be dead. But I trust that you will be the key to saving us. I believe in you, Seven.”_

Then the video ends. As he looks at the screen in silence, he knows exactly how he is going to save these old prototypes. He knows where the holding chambers are through maps and different layouts of the laboratory and experimental floors. He can find them and give them all this new information to help save them!

He closes out of the files that he has opened, and he takes the hard drive out completely. Knowing what Nile could do if he had his people search overnight and take all the information they had, he knows that he has to save at least a good portion of his evidence.

He leaves the lab and walks around while he is still alone. He finds his old simulation room and looks at it for a very long time. He feels the glass and presses his forehead against it. He knows what he needs to do, but he is worried that he is going to have his plan foiled or ruined.

Marco is suddenly startled backward when something bumps right up against the wall. It’s a large android with some skin ripped off his frame to reveal solid metal. He realizes that the three A.I.E. 2.0 prototypes are in here. He looks at them as the other two arrive and stand right beside him, watching him from the glass.

He gets an idea and hurries into the observation room. He turns the microphone on. “Don’t be afraid of me. I know what you are. I am like you. I’m A.I.E. P007.”

The three of them watch him, and they look angry right away.

“We knew that there was something that we had to live up to,” the larger one mutters as he looks at him.

“I know Jean, yes. But I am not here because of him. I am here to help you. You know how you’ve wanted to build up your knowledge, but you have been held down countless times by Nile? Well, I am here to save you from that!”

“How?” They all are skeptical.

Marco takes a nervous breath. “In my hand I hold a hard drive created by a man that had died over a year ago that has everything we need in order to stand up to Nile and his plan to ruin our lives. He has developed a monster that only we can stop. Also in here is knowledge, emotions, and memories that will help clarify why you are here. There’s personalities and interests that you’ve never thought you could imagine having. And I can give it to each of you, as well as the rest of the prototypes that need us. And I have a plan to stop them. All you need to do is trust me and let me in without causing any harm to me. And I will help you all seek your revenge.”

They look at each other for several moments. Of course, they are hesitant at first, but they know what needs to be done. They let their guard down and step back so that Marco can come in.

He takes the hard drive and goes to each of them from the back, waiting for them to stay calm. He starts with Annie, and he works his way down the line repeating each step. He takes off a piece of their skin and muscular material from the back of their heads to reveal a port on their skull. He plugs in the hard drive and let’s all the information download. It takes several moments each, and they are both disoriented for several moments.

Marco stands in front of them and watches them register their new memories and knowledge.

Bertholdt walks up to Marco and is the first to hug him tight. They all are temporarily relieved from the ailments and trauma that has been forced onto them, and they are replaced by nurture and a new desire to stand up for themselves.

He smiles at them and watches them stand before him, tall and proud. Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie all nod their heads briefly. Marco is currently their leader, and the four of them are all going to work together.

Annie is the first to speak. “What’s your plan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @wandering_tiff

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Jeanmarco gift exchange 2016!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8983447) by [tontie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tontie/pseuds/tontie)




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